The Long Road
by TheLoneTraveler
Summary: Jo Travers joined the army as a nurse. Oddly enough, that was the job she spent the least amount of time in. Bouncing around from tank to tank and then bounced to the infantry, Jo found herself doing things she could never imagine. She went to war expecting to die, not to fall in love. Feedback appreciated. Hiatus.
1. 26 April 1945, A Beet Field

She was numb.

Laying in the cold on the wet ground for hours did that to a person. The only relief was coming from the tanks and trucks burning by the GIs. Jo was with what was left of her platoon, laying in front of the burned out vehicles, and trying to avoid getting shot at by the Nazis. There was a ceasefire that had been holding since about ten minutes after the American troops stormed the beet field.

Their intel had been bad. MGs were expected, hence the tank protection, but the anti-tank was never reported before their eyes got taken out. Now they had to wait for one of two things to happen. The Nazis would come out of their hidey holes and shoot them all to death, or backup would come and save all their asses, blowing Jerry to high hell.

It was hard to tell over the crackling of the fire behind her, but Jo could swear that she heard the hum of engines. They were still far off but with any luck it would be their boys coming to rescue them, if not, lunch was going to be short. She could see the road from where she lay and soon a procession of four Shermans came rolling up. Jo smiled to herself and started wiggling her toes to regain feeling before she had to get up.

The tanks rolled over the first hedgerow and came speeding up towards the survivors and the gaps in their flaming convoy. They cleared the second hedgerow and the soldiers behind the wreckage fell in behind the tanks. Once the tanks cleared the convoy and were close she sprung up with her Thompson and fell in line behind the rest of the ground troops. She was behind _Fury_, she could hear Don yelling into his comms to someone. That person must have fucked up somewhere.

She nearly had to laugh at the man telling them to keep low and in line behind the tank. Like that wasn't obvious already. She was moving at a slight jog to keep up with _Fury_. They had gone maybe a hundred yards before all hell broke loose.

Tracers were bouncing everywhere and it made it easy to stay out of the spray of bullets coming from the Germans. A few troops were unfortunate enough to catch a ricochet off the tanks and bite it. Jo kept true behind _Fury_, staying low as the tanks did their job to destroy the heavy guns and any Nazis in their line of fire.

The machine guns were dispatched fairly quickly and Jo instinctively ducked even lower when she heard the .75 go whistling past the tanks. It took the tanks a few tries, but the ATs were destroyed soon enough. By this time, the entire convoy was at the tree line and foxholes that the Germans had been using as cover. It was time for her to do her job. Jo took a deep breath and focused. She checked the magazine of her tommy gun and stepped out of the cover provided by _Fury_.

Jo advanced quickly and shot at the Germans in the trenches. Any that she didn't kill instantly were taken care of by the other soldiers behind her. She ran into the tree line the Nazis had been hiding in making sure that all the dead ones were dead and any live ones shared the same fate. She headed left while most everybody else headed right. She was glad she did, she came across a pile of three bodies. They were all men in their mid-twenties.

Jo got close to the pile to inspect it, gun trained on the pile. Not seeing any movement, she proceeded with caution. She headed around one side to reach the head of one of the men when suddenly the man on top grabbed her ankle and yanked. Jo fell to the ground hard, knocking her helmet off. The Nazi had gotten up, Jo trained her gun on him and pulled the trigger, but it jammed. She was surprised, her gun never jammed. The kraut took advantage of the situation and leapt upon Jo.

Instantly she was pinned down and there were hands on her throat. She couldn't breathe, but she tried not to panic. Panicking just led to dying quicker. She tried prying off the German with one hand on his and the other pushing on his face. He just leaned back slightly, getting his face out of her reach. This wasn't working and she could feel her life ebbing away. She tried clawing at the hands clutching her throat, but to no avail. With one hand she kept prying at his fingers trying to break them while the other fumbled for her bayonet sheathed underneath her. She couldn't reach it. She was pinned and being choked, different tactics were needed. She put both hands on his collar and pulled him down. She headbutt him. Instantly he released her and grabbed his face, his nose bleeding. Jo gasped for air, panting. She rolled him off her and tackled him back to the ground. She reached for her bayonet when a rock connected with her skull. She fell back, seeing stars, with a hand still on the bayonet underneath her. The German pinned her back down before she could recover and started to pummel her head with the rock. It hurt like a motherfucker but she had to keep fighting if she wanted to live. She couldn't get her hand and the bayonet out from under her. She pushed her pelvis up with all she could muster and shifted his balance. The small movement was enough for Jo to get the bayonet out. The Nazi brought down the rock again, but Jo held up the bayonet and he impaled his wrist on it. He yelled and recoiled in pain and Jo took the opportunity to sit up now he wasn't over her. She punched him across the face, disrupting his balance, and tackled him, sliding her bayonet smoothly into his throat. She felt like a cat playing with a mouse pinning him down as she waited for him to suffocate and bleed out. It didn't take long.

Once he was dead she rolled off him and onto her back. She lay there staring up at the tree canopy while she took time to breathe and get her adrenaline in check. Her head and throat throbbed with every heartbeat, but the pain would go away soon, it always did.

Having spent enough time recovering, she got up and wiped her bayonet off on his uniform. She placed it back into her belt and retrieved her gun and helmet. The other two bodies were dead. She was positive, otherwise she would be dead instead.

"Sorry Fritz," she said to his body as she passed by and walked back to her unit.

When she made it back out of the woods, most of the other soldiers were standing around in a half circle watching something. She walked past the commotion and straight to _Fury_ and its crew before she turned around. She saw Don roughing up some kid and a German in an American uniform coat kneeling nearby.

"So who's the baby shit greenie over there?" Jo asked.

"That's Norman. Our new bow gunner," replied Gordo.

"New bow gunner?" She grabbed a cup of coffee and returned to her spot. "What happened to Red?"

"Got his fucking head blown off he did," stated Grady. He was wearing a German helmet and coat. Jo looked him up and down in the garb. She made an amused face.

"Coon-Ass, you wear that Nazi shit around me and I might accidentally shoot you. Force of habit you know."

"Ha ha, force of habit," he made a face at her, "you'd just fucking shoot me for the hell of it, Travers."

Jo shrugged. "Maybe." She leaned against _Fury_, watching the commotion. "But you've been staying on my good side lately. Keep that up and I might even check your wounds sometime instead of having Boyd poke around in them. How's that sound?"

"Don't really give a shit either way."

Just then, Jo's attention was draw by a gunshot and some laughter. The German was dead, the kid named Norman was on the ground upset, and Don was in a huff walking towards the back of the tanks. She went towards the back past the little fire the boys had set up, and followed Don.

She watched him kneel in the field, hands on his knee. She shuffled up behind him to make sure he heard her. She didn't need to see his face to know what it looked like. "Three years and you still get that look in your eyes."

"Which look is that?" He didn't look at her.

"The haunted one from killing somebody." He just turned and stared at her, cigarette hanging out of his mouth. "I don't understand how you do it. How you still have some sort of humanity left after all this shit to feel guilt about killing somebody."

He stood up and faced her, hands on his hips. "Well don't you?"

"Not really. Not after all the shit that's happened to me in my life and this war. I have a harder time killing fluffy little bunny rabbits than I do some Nazi fuck that is going to kill me if I don't kill him first."

Don nodded at her. "There were some Hitler youths earlier, on the way to Baker Company. They blew the lead tank. The kid, Norman, saw them and didn't do shit about it. I guess he didn't realize, the Germans will do anything to win this war. There were three kids, not even old enough to start shaving, and they took out a fucking tank." Don laughed to himself and ran a hand over his face.

"I'm sorry." She moved to hug Don, but he stopped her.

"No, not here, later." He lit his cigarette.

"Alright," she nodded. "Coffee?" She offered the enamel cup to Don.

He gladly took it with a nod. "What happened to your head and neck, by the way?" It throbbed again at its mention. She had completely forgotten about it.

"A Nazi with a rock in the woods. He tried choking me out, I headbutted him, he hit me with a rock, I slit his throat. Needless to say, rock doesn't beat scissors when scissors is a bayonet."

He gave a short laugh. "Come on," he clapped her on the shoulder and they headed back towards _Fury_. "Have Bible check you over, then we are heading out to take the next town."

"Roger."

When they approached the tank, Wardaddy started giving orders. "We move out in 15. Boyd, take a look at Wonder Woman here. Make sure she ain't too banged up. Norman. I haven't seen you eat anything all day. Make sure you get something to eat."

"Alright, give me a sec." Boyd climbed into the tank.

At the same time Jo overheard Grady talking to Norman. "You best go eat something. Make sure he sees it too." Then Grady started picking up their little camp they made.

"By the way, Grady."

He stood up and looked at Jo. "Yeah?"

"You make one hell of an ugly ass Nazi." She cracked a smile and they both started laughing. Jo noticed that Norman hadn't moved at all. She walked over to him and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Hup two, Norman."

"Huh?" He looked at her, finally snapped out of his daze.

"Go get something to eat. If I remember correctly your rations are stored on the back of the tank." He started nodding at her and she nodded back with a small smile, gently pushing him towards the back of the tank. It started to drizzle. He eventually found his legs again and continued on his own.

"I'm surprised that you are being that nice to him." Boyd said from the top of the turret.

"Yeah, me too." He handed her the bag and jumped down off the tank. "There must be something that makes me human left in here somewhere." She handed the bag back to him.

"That or maybe it's the bump on your head talking and you've got a concussion." He guided her over to an ammo box. "Sit."

Jo sat on the box and took off her helmet. Bible started poking at the wound. "So tell me doctor, how bad is it?"

Boyd laughed. "It ain't too bad. Bit scraped up and swollen, don't really need a bandage. I'll put one on ya anyway. You play in the dirt too much, it'll keep it clean." He fished out a gauze pad and some medical tape and taped it on. He pulled at the collar of her coat and looked at her neck. "Can't do much about the neck. You're good to go for now. Just have Nancy take a look at you when you can to make sure nothing's wrong with you."

She stood up. "Yes, sir," she said while giving him a sarcastic salute. Boyd smiled at that and reached around Jo to get the box she was sitting on.

By then the fire was put out, everything was packed back on the tank, and Don was back. He climbed onto the tank. "Travers."

"Yeah, Sarge?"

"You need a ride?"

"Just as long as I'm on the .50."

"Of course." He gave her a small smile. She smiled back at him and he helped her up the side of the tank.

Sgt. Miles came up to _Fury_. "Sgt. Collier, time to head out."

"Yeah, I got it." Miles spotted Jo and gave her a smug smile. Then he got on the tank. Jo's blood ran cold and anger boiled into her veins. If looks could kill Sgt. Miles would be cold and in the ground already. She just stared at him, hands balled into fists, and slowly rubbed her knuckles with her thumbs until Grady softly hitting her shoulder finally got her attention.

She snapped her head towards him. "What?" she growled softly.

"Just keep it cool, alright?" He had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

"Of course." She gave him an angry smile.

"All tanks, this is Wardaddy. Time to head out. I'll be in lead. Same order as before. Pull out." Don put the radio back down and the tanks pulled out, carrying what foot soldiers they could.

Jo turned back to face Miles and unjammed her tommy gun. She smacked Grady on the shoulder. "Here take this. I'm on the .50 and don't need this in my way." Grady nodded and took the gun, putting it in the tank. "Got anything to drink down there to take the edge off?"

"'Course." Grady grinned and passed up a bottle. Jo took a big swig and handed it back to Grady.

"Thanks."

"Anytime." He took a swig himself. Jo faced front, watching for any enemies, while keeping tabs on Sgt. Miles. She kept eyeing him out of the corner of her eye until after ten minutes she couldn't take it anymore.

"Why are you on this tank?" She growled at Miles.

"Same as you. Hitching a ride." He had that same smug smile on his face.

"Yeah, but why this tank?" Her anger and hatred were starting to fill her up.

"Sgt. Collier is in charge of the tanks and I'm in charge of First Platoon. I need to be here for him to give orders to the others."

"Bullshit. There are radios on the other tanks too. Besides, it's unwise to be here. In the case of an ambush it's usually the first tank that eats it. Losing both leaders in one hit would be such a shame."

"Don't jinx us, Travers." Don interjected.

"Don't worry, Wardaddy, you guys are safe in my hands." She didn't take her eyes off Miles.

"If only that were a certainty." Don continued to watch the horizon for any signs of ambush.

"Get off this tank." Jo said to Miles.

"I'm sorry?" He had an amused expression.

"You heard me get off this tank," she said coldly.

The sergeant laughed. "I don't take orders from nurses and I sure as hell don't take orders from women."

"You are lucky I haven't fucking killed you in your sleep."

"Killed me in my sleep?" He laughed again. "You couldn't hurt me if you tried."

"Oh really? Do you want to test that theory?" She crossed her arms.

"All I'd have to do is hit your head into a wall again and you'd be a useless mess that needed rescuing again." He smiled and crossed his arms at her.

"Oh shit." Jo heard Grady mutter over her left shoulder.

Jo felt her anger mix with adrenaline and curl around her heart. She saw red. Her eye gave a twitch and with a yell she tackled sergeant Miles off the side of the tank. The look of surprise and fear on his face as they were falling made Jo's heart soar with joy. They landed in the mud with a thud, Jo on top of him. She just started punching him in the face as hard and fast as she could. There was blood and mud all over his face and Jo's hand hurt like hell, but she kept wailing on him. With every hit she got a sick sense of satisfaction. Next thing she knew there were arms around her waist and shoulders pulling her off the sergeant.

"Put me down!" She yelled. "Put me the fuck down!" Her feet touched the ground again, but she was still restrained. She struggled against the hands holding her. The other soldiers were pulling the injured man out of the mud and Don was standing between the two.

Miles wiped the blood off his face and mouth. "Bitch!" He spat at her, his face already starting to swell.

"Fucking asshole!" She screamed at him. She spit at him and it hit him in the eye. She smiled and laughed to herself.

Don stood in front of her, hand up to push her back if needed. "Calm the fuck down!" He yelled over all the commotion. "You calm the fuck down," he said wagging his finger at Jo. He turned to face Miles. "You get on the second fucking tank and don't say another word."

"Let me go," Jo growled to Grady and Bible.

"Not till Top give the say-so." She heard Grady mutter in her left ear.

Miles glared at her and nursed his face as he walked towards the second tank. She glared right back until Don blocked her line of vision. He stood over her until he had her undivided attention. "I don't know what the fuck that was about but we are having words later. Got it?"

"Got it." She stopped struggling.

"Boys, let her go." They released her and she readjusted her clothes to hang right. "Now get your ass on that tank and man the fucking .50. We get ambushed and make it out alive, I will hold you personally responsible and deal with you myself. Understand?"

"Yes." She glared at Don.

"Okay then." He shifted his attention to the convoy. "Mount up, boys. Let's get this show on the road."

"You shouldn't have done that." Grady muttered to her as they climbed up _Fury_.

"Why the fuck do you think I gave you my Thompson? I would have shot him otherwise." She took her position behind the turret.

"What about your pistol?" Grady and Bible climbed into the turret.

"Out of ammo." There was a pause and they both started laughing uncontrollably. Once she finally stopped laughing, Jo smiled. "Well, that was exhilarating."

"You good now?" asked Bible.

"Perfectly fine." She smiled again, content with herself. Don glanced sideways at her.

"Just keep an eye out for Nazis." Don stated and they rolled out and down the road to the next town.


	2. Taking the Town

The rain had stopped.

Jo kept flexing her hand to relieve the pain from punching Sgt. Miles. Her knuckles swelled slightly and were scrapped up a bit, but other than that they were fine. She didn't break anything in her hand, she checked, but knuckles against skull hurt.

Bible stuck his head out of his hatch. "Wonder Woman, Gordo here's got a question for you." He handed her his intercom and helmet. She put them on.

"Yeah, Gordo?"

"Earlier Norman here said it wasn't true that you can fuck a German girl for a chocolate bar. You're a girl, is it true?"

Jo smiled to herself. "I'm telling you, it's not true." Norman chimed in.

"Depends on the girl whether it's true or not." Jo responded. "If the girl wants the chocolate bar and she is willing to fuck you for it, then she really wants the chocolate bar. I don't understand it. But I suppose that if you have nothing left, a chocolate bar could be worth fucking somebody for. It's a little bit of luxury in this hell of a war." There was silence as the crew pondered this.

"Now the real question is," chimed in Don, "would Hitler fuck you for a chocolate bar? It's a hotly debated topic." All the tank burst out laughing except Bible, not being able to hear the conversation.

"Would Hitler fuck me for a chocolate bar? He wouldn't need a chocolate bar to want to fuck me, I'm already his fucking wet dream. A blonde haired blue-eyed woman who acts and dresses like a man and is half super soldier after what his fucking SS bastards did to me."

"What'd they do to you?" asked Norman.

"I'll tell you later, greenie. You need to see it to get the whole effect." That shut up Norman. "Anyway, I don't care if he wanted to fuck me for a chocolate bar, I wouldn't. I would just fucking shoot him. For free." The tank went silent. "Fucking asshole is the whole reason we are in this shit to begin with."

"I thought it was because the Japs attacked Pearl Harbor."

"Shit, Gordo, do you live under a rock? Why the fuck do you think we are in Germany? Pearl Harbor is the reason we joined the war, but Hitler has been stirring shit up for years now. Even before he invaded Poland. I swear if I ever lay my fucking eyes on him I'll shoot him between the eyes and rip off his fucking mustache." The boys started to giggle.

"Wouldn't it be better to rip off his mustache when he's alive so it would hurt?" asked Don.

"Yeah, but the asshole pisses me off so much that I would end up ripping his throat out before I even got to the mustache. Plus, shooting him gets less blood on my uniform than ripping out his fucking throat." They hummed in agreement.

The convoy was nearing the outskirts of the town they were to take and everybody sobered up instantly, the semi-joyful mood dying. Jo immediately took off Boyd's intercom and helmet and handed them back. She replaced hers just as they passed the body of a hanged woman wearing a sign around her neck.

Boyd noticed. "They got signs around their necks. What do them signs say?"

"I'm a coward and refused to fight for the German people." Don replied, being the resident translator and only one who could read German in the tank.

Jo knew with what little German she knew that that wasn't what the sign around the woman's neck said. '_meine Kinder'_ she knew those words. Kinder was an easy word, it meant children. Her children. Her children were the reason she was hanged. "Jesus Christ." She mumbled under her breath. She put her hand on Don's shoulder and put her mouth near his ear. "Do you feel bad about killing them now?" He turned his head and just looked at her. She could see him struggling not to care about what happened to those people.

"The SS does that. Let them rip themselves to pieces, huh? Fuck them." Gordo added.

In less than a minute they were just outside the town walls. Jo jumped off _Fury_ with the rest of the infantry and took cover of _Fury_'s right flank. She didn't see many people out, those who were had their hands up and looked frightened beyond all belief. Sergeant Miles was giving orders again, but thankfully he wasn't her CO. She followed Don's lead. His tank was the priority.

"Clear the alley!" She rushed forward to make sure there were no Panzerfäuste waiting in the alley. It was deserted. There was a wall of smoke up ahead and who knows what beyond that. _Fury_ turned left and Jo stayed on the right flank. The street was deserted except for an old man. The hairs on the back of Jo's neck stood up and the bottom of her stomach dropped out. There was something wrong and she could feel it.

She scanned her eyes over the old man looking for weapons when she heard Don ask him where the German soldiers were. She was a few feet away when he pointed down the road with his cane. Jo started forward to clear him out of the street when suddenly there was a bullet through his head. She felt it and saw it before she heard it, his blood and some tissue spraying onto her face. Instantly her adrenaline and instincts took over.

"Shit! Shit!" She yelled to herself as she ran for cover behind an archway. There were shouts of "Sniper!" all around her as if that wasn't fucking obvious. She held her gun to her chest, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. When she opened them again she was completely calm. She ducked out of the archway and into the street next to _Fury_ and followed Don's bursts. Boyd punched one out into the building and Jo couldn't hear anything anymore. Her ears rung from all the gunfire, but she kept shooting. Within seconds the threat was eliminated. The tanks and infantry moved forward. It was clear for about ten yards when suddenly there were bullets and tracers flying out of a basement window on the opposite side of the street.

Jo took cover again, though she was relatively safe being on the other side of _Fury_. Tracers were both a blessing and a curse. You could tell where you were shooting with them, but the enemy could see where you were hiding bright as day. They were great for tanks and high velocity machine guns, not so much if you were a foot soldier. As a rule, Jo never used them, pointing and shooting wasn't terribly hard.

The tanks stopped and so did the bullets. When Jo saw _Fury_ button up she moved further under the protection of the archway and plugged her ears. She had some semblance of hearing again, she didn't need to lose what she gained back so soon. She felt the quake and shockwave from _Murder Inc._'s gun and pulled her fingers out of her ears. As soon as she saw the rubble start falling Jo was on the move again. She saw Binkowski shrug at Wardaddy and smiled to herself. He always over did it. She went to the corner of the building and peaked around it. The town square seemed empty except for the bodies of hanged children with signs around their necks.

"Fuck." She whispered under her breath. The SS really knew how to make themselves hated even more. She waited at the corner of the building for _Fury_ to clear the square. There was nothing worse than walking into an ambush.

_Fury_ rolled into the square and was suddenly hit by an anti-tank shell from a clothing store. Thankfully it ricocheted off the top of the turret. _Fury_ dealt with the situation, hitting the building with a white phosphorus laden shell. There were Nazis stumbling out of there like rats abandoning a sinking ship. They were all burning from the phosphorus, not a threat at all, but _Fury_'s new bow gunner decided to end their misery instead of letting the assholes burn.

Both tanks continued into the square without incident and Jo and the infantry got to work checking doorways for enemies. Suddenly a door to Jo's left started to open. She trained her gun on it and a white flag started to stick out. A man, clearly an important person, stepped out with his hands above his head asking them to stop shooting. He had a white armband on as well.

Jo only half paid attention to what the man was saying to Don. She kept her attention trained on the doorway, ready to strike if necessary. The soldiers were ready to surrender and that was fine by her. The mayor instructed them to come out with their hands up. When the door opened Jo wasn't prepared. A bunch of fucking kids came out. They looked terrified, which was understandable. There were a few adults among the group which they separated from the kids. Then an SS officer came casually strolling out with his hands up, as if they wouldn't notice him among a bunch of kids.

Don asked the mayor a question. "Hey! Shoot that guy," Don ordered.

"This guy?" Jo's bayou piece of shit leader, Sgt. Dillard, asked.

"Yeah, him. The SS cocksucker with the busted wing." Dillard laughed and pulled him out of line.

"Hey, Angel. This one's yours." The man they called Angel, short for Angel of Death, came over. He was the resident sniper and as far as any of them knew, he never missed a shot. "Auf wiedersehen, asshole." Dillard said, patting the SS on the shoulder.

Angel cleared the line of fire and gunned down the SS officer. Sergeant Dillard immediately ran over to the body and stole the dead man's watch. She never understood stealing the personal effects of a dead person. She only ever took ammo, cigarettes, liquor, and the occasional deck of playing cards when a few cards went missing. Everything else was just unnecessary weight to carry with her. She figured they probably traded the baubles for tricks with the local women. It was the explanation that made the most sense.

Jo walked over to _Fury_. "We need to talk," Don said, getting out of the tank.

"Yeah, I know." She followed him into a building that had been cleared. They walked into a room full of dead rich Nazi sympathizers. It looked like it had been the local headquarters based on the uniforms.

"Fuck," said Don commenting on the bodies. Jo closed the door behind her. The bodies were relatively fresh so they didn't smell too bad yet, not that the smell bothered her that much anymore anyway. Don turned to face her. "What the hell was with you and Miles earlier? Why did you attack him?" He put his hands on his hips.

"Remember about a month back when I had the broken nose and the concussion? That was him. I thought it was only appropriate that I return the favor."

"And you thought an appropriate time to do that was on the back of my tank?"

"He was there and being an asshole. I couldn't help myself."

"If I recall correctly, it was you who started the conflict."

"He started it by getting on that tank and having that goddamn smug look on his face."

"Why the fuck did he attack you before?"

"It doesn't matter anymore. He's dead." There was a pause. "What did that sign around the woman's neck say? Because it sure as fuck didn't say she was a coward and wouldn't fight for the German people. That's what the little boy's sign said."

Don sighed and leaned against the desk behind him. "Her sign said 'I wouldn't let my children fight.'"

Jo nodded, looking at the floor. "That's what I thought." She looked at Don. "Other than the children, I don't get how you can feel bad for killing these fuckers."

"I don't feel bad about the SS cocksuckers. But everyone else? The kids, the women, the men even, most of them were forced into this against their will."

"What the fuck do you think the draft is?"

"Yeah, but the punishment for dodging the draft is jail, not death."

"But it's still a death sentence when you join."

"And if you're lucky you have a chance to come out alive, and if you're especially lucky, with your soul intact." Jo was silent. She knew she had been beaten. She stared at Don for a minute before he turned around and pulled the silk pocket square off the dead man behind the desk. He dipped it into the dregs of a nearby glass and walked over to Jo.

He removed her helmet. "Here. Let me help you." He took the cloth and started to clean the blood off her face. She had completely forgotten about the blood. The mist had been fine enough that it hadn't started to itch when it dried. "That's better." He threw the bloodied cloth onto the bar behind Jo.

She hugged him. "I'm sorry," she said.

He hugged her back and kissed the top of her head. "What for?"

"For being a complete asshole with no remorse." He pulled back and looked at her curiously before hugging her again and resting his chin on her head.

"You aren't a complete asshole with no remorse."

"I am though."

"I just think you've killed so many people in this war you are desensitized to it. I'm not. I've killed maybe two dozen people in a fashion that is up close and personal. How many have you?"

"I don't know anymore. I lost count after thirty five and that was sometime last year."

"Over thirty five?" He seemed shocked.

"Yes. Storming foxholes yields a high body count. It's not like I killed them all with my bayonet. My Thompson has served me well in protecting my life and ending others'."

"I forgot about foxholes."

"I'm still not as bad as Dillard though. He is psychotic. The man enjoys killing Nazis and doesn't care who they are. Men, women, children, he kills them all and enjoys it. I don't enjoy killing but at this point I don't see any reason to cry over it, though I get sad when it's a kid." There was a pause as Dom hummed in agreement. "I also try to make it as quick and painless as possible, but it's not easy when you are being shot at and the only thing protecting you is a fucking helmet. At least my tommy has a faster rate of fire usually. Might be dead otherwise."

"I hate being in charge of a tank sometimes because you are the target, but I have to say I can't imagine being unprotected all the time."

"It's horrible, but it's not as bad as being a field nurse. No weapon and sometimes no helmet." He gave her a squeeze and another kiss on the head. He brushed a gloved hand through her long crew cut and tilted her head back so he could look her in the eyes.

"You've led so many lives in this war. How do you do it?" He had a concerned look on his face.

"Easy, adapt or be killed."

"Simple as that?"

"Simple as that." Jo stated. She put her head back down and put her ear to his chest. She listened to his heartbeat for a moment. It sounded slow and soft muffled through the fabric and it made her feel safe. She closed her eyes, breathing in his scent. Heaving a sigh, she opened them again. "Though the process getting there can be pretty tough."

"Which life do you prefer?" He asked the air above her head, stroking her hair.

She looked up at him and smiled. "I liked being a tanker the best. It's a small group to get to know, protection from gunfire that isn't anti-tank, the positions are fairly easy to learn, though hard to master, and no walking." Don chuckled. "And the tankers haven't held a pissing match with me at every turn like the infantry. You were all pretty accommodating all things considered."

He furrowed his brow. "How do you mean?"

"All the tankers I served with were skeptical of my abilities at first since I'm a woman, but I only ever had to prove myself to them once and immediately I was a part of the crew. The entire infantry could be taken out and I wouldn't give a damn, except Captain Waggoner, he's got my back. But the tankers, you guys are all my friends. Even Grady and Binkowski."

"That is good to hear." Smiling, he released Jo from the hug. "That reminds me I have to check in with the good Captain." He kissed Jo and left.

Jo stayed behind. She noticed a decanter of whiskey on the desk and poured herself a glass. Carrying her glass, Jo began to inspect the bodies. Suicides, all of them. There was no useable ammo for her revolver. The woman on the floor had a beautiful set of pearls, but they were useless to Jo. She never wore jewelry and her ears weren't even pierced. She finished her whiskey, and sat down on the desk, pouring herself another. She spent her time enjoying her drink. By the time she finished Don had come back, this time followed by Norman.

Norman tried to look like he wasn't bothered by the dead bodies while Don walked behind the desk. "They knew we were coming. So they got drunk as lords and they shot themselves at sunup."

"Why are you showing me this?"

"Ideals are peaceful. History is violent." Don went around to the front of the desk. Jo poured him a drink and handed it to him. He took it and downed it. He handed it back to Jo giving her a wink and small smile. Don walked out of the room again and Norman looked pissed at him.

"If I remember correctly, I owe you a story, Greenie." Jo grabbed Norman's attention.

"Why do you keep calling me Greenie?"

"Because you are green as baby shit. Do you want to hear a story or not?"

"Yes. Fine."

"Okay then." She smiled and slid off the desk. She pulled a dead politician out of one of the chairs. "Have a seat." She indicated the chair and Norman looked at it warily. She raised an eyebrow at him and he slowly took a seat. "And I hope you aren't too squeamish."

"I signed onto the Army as a nurse. I was stationed with a field hospital. Two weeks after I got here, the aid station I was working in got ambushed. I was shot in the back by a stray bullet. When the Nazis came they saw that I was a nurse and that I was wounded and took me with them." She started to take off her gloves and jacket. "I had passed out from the pain and loss of blood very shortly after. When I came to, they were pulling the bullet out and then, just to be dicks I think, they stuck a hot poker into the wound." She turned around and lifted the back of her shirt, revealing the scar near her kidney.

"Holy shit." Norman looked slightly disgusted by it. She put her shirt back down and faced Norman again.

"I immediately passed out from the pain of that poker in my back. I'm not sure how much time passed between that surgery and the next, they kept me fairly sedated and in the dark most of the time. But they made sure I was awake for this surgery. They used local anesthesia so I wouldn't feel anything, but I could watch as they cut me open. It was very surreal. To be able to see everything going on, but not feel it. I watched as they pushed my intestines out of the way and cut out my uterus." She lifted the front of her shirt and pulled down the waistband of her trousers, revealing the scar. Norman was visibly green. She replaced her clothing.

"I have no idea why they did that, it was intact. There is a plus to having no uterus though. I can't get pregnant and I don't bleed anymore. It's perfect for a war, not so much for family planning. Neither of those things makes me partially a super soldier though. Over the next three weeks that they had me, the SS surgeons started to fuck with my nervous system and somehow, I don't know how, they managed to make the area just above my pelvis and just below my ribs completely numb. I have about a six inch band of numbness that goes around my entire torso. I don't feel a thing when I get shot or stabbed or impaled there at all." She lifted her shirt halfway up her ribs and showed off all the scars she had accumulated from the war.

"Oh God," she heard Norman whisper.

"The entire time I was there they were teaching me German whenever I was conscious, and I think they were trying to brainwash me between the torturing, the surgeries, and the German. The brainwashing didn't take, but the German stayed. I'm convinced they were trying to turn me into a super soldier for their side since that's the kind of thing the SS does. So when Don tells you to shoot their fucking asses down, you do it. Got it?"

Norman just nodded. Jo grabbed her things and started for the door. "How did you get out?"

Jo gave a short laugh. "It was easy. One day I woke up and no one was there. They abandoned the facility for reasons unknown to me and left me behind. I stumbled out of there, half dead, and found my way to a road. I've been told that when I was found that I was delirious and babbling half in German and half in English, but that I managed to give the necessary information. I woke up in a hospital in France with an army nurse named Nancy caring for me. I left the hospital before I was fully recovered and left with the tank that found me. Nancy was pissed off that I left and has been following me at field hospitals and aid stations ever since."

Jo walked out the door and back into the square. She spotted the Red Cross in a window of the bank and walked in. She found Nancy setting out supplies. "Nancy, I'm supposed to have you look me over." Nancy turned around and saw Jo standing there sheepishly.

"Sit." She pointed to a chair next to a small table holding a basin of water. Nancy walked over and started to inspect Jo. She pulled the bandage off her head and looked. "There is barely a scratch. Plenty of bruising though. You don't need a bandage for this. Whoever put it on you was an idiot." She threw the bandage in a trash can. Nancy pulled out a small flashlight. "Follow my finger with your eyes." Jo did as she was told as Nancy shone the light in her eyes. "Okay, good." She put the light away. "Have you had any dizziness or confusion? Any persistent headaches?"

"No to all of the above."

"Congratulations, you don't have a concussion." Nancy pulled at Jo's collars to get a better look. "Well you have two bruises in the shape of hands on your neck, but there isn't anything I can do about that. Any place else that you hurt yourself?" Jo lifted her hand to Nancy. She took it and looked at the scrapes and bruises. She sighed, feeling for broken bones. "Who did you beat up this time?" She grabbed a damp cloth and started cleaning the scrapes.

"Sgt. Miles. It was pay back for last month." Nancy nodded in reply. "He's dead now." Nancy snapped her head up and looked at Jo wide eyed. "What? I didn't kill him if that's what you were thinking."

Nancy nodded in understanding and returned her attention to Jo's hand. "Did you want a bandage on this?" She put the cloth on the table.

"Not really, it should be fine. I don't plan on beating anyone else up today." She said with a smile.

"Then you can leave now." Nancy turned her attention back to her supplies.

Jo eyed the bowl of water next to her. Her fingers twitched with the possibility that she could wash her hands, face, and hair. "Can I use that?" She pointed to the water.

"No. This building still has running water and a bathroom. Go use the sink in there. Now leave me in peace to deal with patients more needing of my attention." Nancy ordered.

"Yes, ma'am." Jo chuckled out with a smile. Nancy smiled at her and with that Jo headed to the bathroom. She walked in and over to the sink. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and her appearance startled herself. Half her face was somewhat clean from where Don had cleaned off the blood, and the other half was covered in grime with a large bruise on her forehead. She looked at her neck in the mirror, it wasn't too bad as far as bruises went.

She took off her helmet and set it on the sink counter. There wasn't any soap that she could find. Jo took off her pack and dug through it until she found her soap. She turned on the tap and wet the bar. She scrubbed at her hands and cleaned under her short fingernails with the soap. She set the soap down and wet her face and head. She grabbed the soap again and worked a lather onto her hands and proceeded to wash her face and hair.

When she was done washing, her hair was clean and her hands and face were pink. She felt so much better now that she wasn't covered in who knows what anymore. She rinsed the blood off her helmet and replaced it. The soap was placed back into her pack and she left the bank.


	3. Rest and Relaxation

Jo noticed that there was a sudden influx of townsfolk, especially women, since she had last been outside. Sometimes they would take towns and they were abandoned, and other times they were like this. Civilians were great to play with during rest and relaxation, but Jo couldn't really relax with them around. She much preferred when it was just the soldiers.

She passed by _Murder Inc_. and noticed her crew was there. "How's it hanging, Binkowski?" Jo called, distracting him from negotiating with a woman.

"To the left. Wanna see?" Binkowski grabbed at the crotch of his pants. That was more information than she needed or wanted.

"No. It was rhetorical." She stated back, rolling her eyes at his comment.

"Hey, tell that cocksucker Wardaddy if he doesn't take care of you, I will." He called to her.

"In your dreams." She walked on by.

"I'm serious. I've got a hard-on with your name on it if you ever want it."

"You're still an asshole." She yelled over her shoulder, giving him the finger.

"Gladly!" He shouted after her. She laughed to herself. Some things never changed and Binkowski was one of them. Ever since he realized Jo was a girl when she served in his tank, he had been trying to woo her. Needless to say he had been unsuccessful in his endeavors.

Jo spotted Don and Norman walk into a different building. She made to follow them, walking past _Fury_, but Boyd stopped her.

"Jo, you okay?" He was sitting by a little fire, heating up coffee and reading his bible.

"Yeah," she paused, walking over to Boyd. "Why wouldn't I be okay?" She asked with a small smile.

"Earlier with Miles, said you found it exhilarating."

"So?" Jo was completely confused.

"You always get excited beatin' a man up?" He looked at her completely serious.

"WHAT?" Jo shot her head forward. "No. Shit." She rubbed her hand against her forehead. "No, it's nothing like that. I don't get off on hurting other people. He just wronged me in the past and I enjoyed returning the favor." She crossed her arms defensively. "Besides I'm sure I'm not the only one that wanted to wipe that smug look off his face that he had all the time."

"You sure that's all it was?"

"Yes! Holy Shit! Why are people suddenly worried about my mental wellbeing today?" She raised her arms in exasperation then squatted down in front of the fire opposite of Boyd. She clasped her hands in front of her mouth. "You have known me a good part of a year now. I think you would have noticed before today if I took pleasure out of hurting or killing someone."

"Well I ain't there looking over your shoulder when you kill someone am I?" He snapped his bible shut.

Jo gave a sigh. "Look. I get happy when someone gets their comeuppance. Far as I know, so do most people. It just so happened that I was the one to give it to him, and it felt fucking good too. If that makes me a bad person, then so be it. I don't plan on surviving this godforsaken war so it don't matter one jot." She stood up and pointed her finger at Boyd. "If you've got a problem with that, that's your problem, not mine. You and your god and Jesus Christ aren't going to make me feel guilty about something I've done and got a release from. Besides, there are men here much more deranged than you think I am. Take your bible and Jesus and go save them men's souls, they need it more than I."

Jo stalked off to the building that she saw Don and Norman enter. She was calm again by the time she went up the stairs. She heard a small commotion in German from the other side of a door. Don's voice sounded and then she heard a woman apologizing for something. She waited outside the door a few minutes and then Jo gently rapped on the door with her knuckles.

"Don? You in there? It's Jo." She tried the door, but it was locked. She heard footsteps and saw a silhouette come to the door. It was too short to be Don. The lock clicked open and Norman pulled open the door. "Thanks." She said walking in. She saw Wardaddy sitting at the table and noticed a young woman sitting on a sofa on the far side of the room. Norman took a seat in the chair next to the sofa. Jo set her things down and took a seat at the table to Don's right. Once she was settled in, she finally took a look at the girl across the room.

Don called her over and asked her name. Emma. The girl looked between Don and Jo with an angry look on her face to cover her fear, as if acting tough could save her from them. Don pulled out a small tin box and opened it. He handed it to Emma along with some coffee, tea, and cigarettes. Emma walked into the kitchen with the supplies.

"What was in the tin?" Jo asked.

"Eggs."

"Eggs?" Jo asked excitedly. "Where did you find eggs?"

"We stayed in a barn a few nights ago. There were still chickens there. So we had ourselves a chicken dinner and come morning decided to look in the coup. There were six eggs just lying there for the taking."

"Aren't you lucky? The only meat I've had in the past three months has been from a tin." Jo rested her head in her hand.

Another woman came out of the kitchen and set a bowl down in front of Don. He stood and took off his jacket. The older woman locked eyes with Jo and gasped. "Greta?" she asked.

Don looked between the two. "Du sie erkennen?" (You recognize her?) he asked the woman.

She nodded her head. "Ja. Sie sieht aus wie meine Schwester." (Yes. She looks like my sister.)

"She look familiar to you?" Don asked Jo.

"No."

"Know a Greta?" He took out his soap and shaving kit.

"My mother's name was Greta, but I highly doubt they are the same person. I mean, what are the chances?" She turned her attention to the woman. "Wie heiβt?" (What is your name?)

"Irma." She replied.

"Irma." Jo said to herself, mulling the name over. "Fuck!" Jo burst out. The woman in front of her flinched.

"I take it as you know an Irma?" Don asked.

"Well, I don't _know_ an Irma, but my mom did have a sister named Irma. She stayed here in Germany because she was too young to come over. Her parents wouldn't let her leave." Jo rubbed a hand over her face. "Hast du Foto?" (Do you have a photo?)

Irma nodded. She made her way to a small table behind Don. Irma shuffled through papers in the drawer of the table for a few more seconds and retrieved a photo. She walked over to the dining table and held it out to Jo, Jo took it. She recognized it instantly. It was of her mother and Irma when they were young. She stood, fumbling around in the breast pocket of her coat and pulled out a worn copy of the same photo. Jo held the two up next to each other and Irma gasped in delight. She took her own copy out of Jo's hand and hugged her. Jo was taken aback at first, but eventually returned the hug. Jo gave a look to Don over Irma's shoulder. He just shrugged and gave her a small smile.

When she released Jo, Irma had tears of happiness in her eyes. Jo sat back down and Irma took the chair next to her.

"How is Greta?" Irma asked with a smile.

Jo turned to her with a sorrowful look. "She died when I was three." Slowly the smile faded from her face and the tears of joy turned to tears of sadness. "I'm sorry."

Irma shook her head and patted Jo's hand. "It's okay." She paused to wipe the tears from her eyes. "It is good to know for sure. I had suspected for years. What of your father?"

"He died along with my brothers a few years ago." Jo pulled out another photo of her, her father, and her brothers, handing it to Irma.

Irma released her hand and took the photo. "Which one is you?" Jo pointed to the shortest person in the photo. "Your hair was short then too?"

Leaning back in her chair, Jo gave a small laugh through her nose and smiled. "Yeah. Easier to keep stuff out of it that way." Irma retuned the photo.

Jo pocketed both photos and relaxed into her chair. Irma stood and put a hand on Jo's shoulder. The two women looked at each other and Irma gave Jo a smile and a gentle squeeze on her shoulder. Jo gave a nod, she knew exactly what it meant. It meant that everything was going to be okay and if she made it through the war, there was going to be somebody she could call family again.

Irma returned to the kitchen. Norman stood up and walked past Don to an upright piano Jo didn't even notice behind her. Jo watched as Don took off his undershirt. She frowned at the bruising on his ribs as he lathered his shave soap.

"What happened there?" She asked pointing to his ribs.

He looked down at the bruise. "Knocked an SS off a horse this morning. Got his shoulder in my ribs."

Norman started to play the piano and Emma came out of the kitchen. She sang along for a few lines before suddenly stopping. Norman stopped playing piano as well. Jo followed Don's gaze as he looked at a mirror behind him. She could see they were looking into it. She was confused for a moment until she remembered about Don's scars. He chided the two and Emma pulled Norman into the bedroom. Irma came back into the room with a cup of coffee. Don stopped her from interfering with Norman and Emma and she went back into the kitchen after setting the coffee down.

"They act like they've never seen scars before." Jo stated to Don who started lathering his face.

"They haven't, not like mine." Jo shrugged and put her elbows up on the table, propping up her head.

"So, I have an aunt now." She drummed the fingers of her free hand against the table.

"Mhmm, it appears so." He started on the other half of his face.

"It's strange. To go from no family to having someone related to you."

"I'll admit, it is one hell of a coincidence that you found a family member here of all places."

"Here as in Germany, or here as in this house?"

"Here as in during a war. In this house."

"I'm sure stranger things have happened."

Don gave a short laugh. "Doubt it." He turned and faced the mirror with his safety razor.

"I don't know why they give you those instead of a straight razor." Jo said sitting back in her chair again so she could see Don's face in the mirror.

"It's so we don't hack our faces off when we need to shave." He pulled the blade down his face.

"Yeah, but a straight razor is so much more practical. Say you are shaving in the field and Jerry tries to jump you. You can slice him up good with the straight razor, but a double-edged is useless against him. You'd have to drop the razor, grab your closest weapon, and by that point hope you are still alive to kill him. Straight razor for the win."

He rinsed off the blade. "But you have to have so much more equipment to keep a straight razor sharp. I can just replace my blade on this when it gets dull."

"Have the barber whet it."

"While I appreciate the merits of a straight razor, it's a waste of time. Besides, if I need to kill a Kraut with a blade, I have a bayonet."

"True." By then, Don was done shaving. There was a lull in the conversation as he rinsed his face, head, and neck off in the soapy water. A soft moan sounded from the bedroom. Jo gave a small smile. "Figure they are just starting?"

"Probably. Norman is shier than a priest."

"You missed a spot." Jo stood up and took the damp towel from Don's hands. "My turn to help." She rubbed at the grime at the nape of Don's neck and another moan sounded. They both looked at the bedroom door before returning to their tasks. "Think she is faking it, or is the kid a natural?" She asked with a smile.

"Dunno. Surprised he's lasted this long to be honest." Jo dipped the towel into the bowl and scrubbed at Don's neck some more.

"All clean." She returned the towel to him.

"Thank you." He wiped at the dirt and grease on his hands and arms with the towel. Jo took a seat on the sofa and admired Don from there.

"I must admit, I think you look more attractive with a bit of scruff and dirt."

He looked at her with an amused smile. "Well I feel better clean and shaved. Sorry to disappoint."

He put his kit back in his bag and put his undershirt and shirt back on as Irma cleared the table. He gave his hair a quick comb through and put his things near Jo's. All that was left on the table was a pack of cigarettes, the newspaper, and a teacup full of coffee. Jo noticed Irma was smoking in the kitchen and occasionally glancing at Don.

"I think she likes you. She keeps looking at you." Jo said to Don as he took his seat at the head of the table.

"Huh?" He asked picking up the paper.

Jo leaned closer to the table. "Irma. I think she likes you."

"Ah." He unfolded the paper and took a drink of the coffee. Suddenly the bedroom door opened and Emma came out and went into the bathroom. It was a few moments longer before Norman came out of the bedroom with a big smile on his face. He finished putting on his coat and sat in the seat to Don's right. Don stared at Norman, sizing him up, and Norman gave him a smirk. "You don't have to say a word."

_Because we heard everything_, Jo thought. Emma came out of the bathroom and Jo ducked her head as she swept past her and into the kitchen. Don gave Jo a knowing look and Jo flashed her eyebrows at him. Emma came back into the room carrying two cups of coffee and sat down next to Norman with a big grin on her face. They were giggling at each other and Irma came in with plates to set the table. Suddenly the peace was disturbed by boots coming up the stairs and Grady calling for Norman.

"Shit," Jo muttered under her breath, raking a hand through her hair. She intertwined her fingers in front of her mouth, resting her chin on her thumbs and her elbows on her knees. The tension in the room was palpable even before the apartment door burst open.

Bible, Gordo, and Grady strolled into the room. Jo looked to Don. He was pissed off and she could see it all over his face. They disturbed whatever semblance of normalcy Don had created in this apartment and he looked as if he could murder them all where they stood.

Grady and Gordo were urging Norman to come down to the square to fuck a whore. Jo wasn't really paying attention to what was said until Grady walked between Emma and Norman. Jo's eyes snapped to him.

"Did you…did you take this pretty young thing for a roll?" He squatted down between the two. "Did you do that?" Emma was visibly scared. "What's with your lip?" He grasped her lower lip in his fingers. "What's with your lip? Why it quiver?" Jo could feel anger start to bubble up inside of her. He released Emma's lip and put his arm around her chair. "Don't worry about me, I'm a friend. He fuck you, you fuck me. That how it works." Jo snapped.

"Don't you fucking touch her." She was seeing red now and there was no stopping her.

"Fuck you!" He turned his attention to Jo.

"Don't fucking touch her." Jo said again.

"Or what? What the fuck are you going to do about it?" He challenged her. He set the bottle in his hand on the table.

In one swift movement, Jo was on her feet and around the table. She yanked Grady up from his squat. "What the fuck you doing?" She shoved him back hard and he fell into the fireplace behind him. He scrambled to his feet as she advanced on him. "The fuck's wrong with you?"

"Don't fucking touch her." Jo replied pushing him against the wall. She started swinging at him and Grady put his arms up in defense.

"Shit." She clipped him in the face. "Fuck!" Jo hit him in the nose. He kept dodging her attacks, not having enough time to counter.

Jo kept whaling on him and repeating "Don't fucking touch her." Grady slowly slid down the wall and it wasn't until he was in a ball on the floor and she started to kick him that he surrendered.

"Okay! Okay! Shit! Fucking Jesus! Stop!" Jo stopped her assault. "Just stop fucking hitting me already." Jo grabbed him by the shoulders of his coat and pulled him back up to a standing position.

"If you ever fucking do that again you will wake up with your balls in your mouth. Got it?"

"Got it." He was cowering from her.

"Good." She released him and turned to the rest of the room. "The same goes for the rest of you," she raised her finger at them all. "If I so much as get an inkling that you have touched a girl without her wanting you to, I will not hesitate to castrate you and shove your balls down your throats." She looked to each of the men in front of her, even Don. "Understand?" All but Don nodded. "Consider yourselves warned."

She stalked forward towards the door. Don caught her wrist in his hand. She looked at him. "Aren't you going to stay for lunch?" He had concern in his eyes.

"I seem to have suddenly lost my appetite." She replied pulling her wrist out of his hand. "Move." She stated to Gordo. He stepped out of her way. Jo bent down and grabbed her things. She stood back up. "And Boyd."

"Yeah?"

"I didn't enjoy doing that." With that she left the apartment.

She pulled a cigarette out of her pocket and shoved it in her mouth. She searched her pockets for a lighter, but couldn't find one. She went over to the nearest fire and lit it. She took a long drag of the cigarette. She exhaled with a sigh and put her hands on her hips. Grady of all people should have known not to pull that shit in front of her. It pissed her off so damn much. "FUCK!" She yelled and kicked the flaming debris. They scattered and she drew the attention of nearby soldiers. She saw one with a bottle of booze. "Give me that." She stated storming over to him, ripping the bottle out of his hand. She took a long swig of it.

"Hey! That's mine!" The soldier protested. Jo gave him a murderous look. He visibly wilted. "Never mind. Keep it."

She was going to drink herself to oblivion and quickly smoke a pack of cigarettes, it was her only way to calm down when she was this angry. She heard the Captain's voice yelling to someone on the radio over the din of the square. What was he so angry about? She absentmindedly returned the bottle and walked over to the command center under the archways.

Captain Waggoner looked like he was going to pop a blood vessel. "The fuck do you mean you don't know?! You want me to send men in there blind?! ... What the fuck is the point in having a recon plane if he doesn't do his fucking job?! … I don't give a shit if he took fire! I've already lost half a platoon today because I don't know what my men are walking into! You want me to lose some more?! … Okay! Fine then! Where do you need them?" He grabbed a map and a grease pencil and started marking things down. "Uh huh … okay … got it … got it … yeah, hold the crossroad. Okay …" He got off the radio. "Fuck you too, you fucking asshole." He said to the radio.

"Problem, sir?" Jo asked, stomping out her finished cigarette.

He put his hands on his hips and faced her. "There's a fucking troop formation coming and all I fucking know about it is it needs to be headed off at a crossroads or else the supply chain is fucked and a bunch of innocent people are going to die."

Jo nodded in understanding.

"Hey, get the fuck over here." He yelled at one of the messengers. The messenger came over. "I want you to find me Love 1-6 and get Sgt. Collier's ass over here."

She grabbed the messenger as he passed her. "He's in that building there," she indicated to the house she came out of earlier. "Top of the stairs." The messenger nodded at her and took off. Jo leaned against one of the archways, loosely crossing her arms.

"It's good to see you're still alive, Travers."

"Thank you, sir."

He sat down in a chair with a sigh. "What the fuck happened to your pins, Lieutenant?"

She looked down at her epaulette and back to Waggoner. "In my pocket. I've found that I'm less of a target when I'm not wearing shiny pieces of metal on my uniform. Besides, it's not like I have any authority inside or outside of a medical facility."

He nodded and stood up. He walked over to a small box of drawers. He dug around in one of the drawers and threw a little packet to Jo. She caught it and saw it contained Captain's pins.

"Thank you, sir, but I'm confused. I haven't been here long enough to be a First Lieutenant, let alone a Captain."

"There's a fucking war going on. We'd all be so lucky to live as long as we need to get a promotion. But if you don't want to be a Captain, that's fine. Give me back the pins, I'll make you a First Lieutenant."

She handed the packet back to him. He threw it back in the drawer and opened a different one. He pulled another packet out. He faced Jo, holding the pins out. "Now, you've seen more shit than any of the other nurses I know of and you've saved my ass. Don't let anyone tell you that you didn't earn these." He smiled at her and set the pins in her hand.

She smiled back. "Yes, sir."

"I heard you had a mission for me, sir?" Don asked walking up to the temporary command center. Jo quickly shoved the pins into her breast pocket so she wouldn't lose them. Don gave her a curious look.

"Yes," Captain Waggoner started, getting Don's attention back. "Sorry to disturb your rest and relax Sgt., but we got some urgent intel."

Don sighed. "It's not a problem, sir."

"Good." Waggoner pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He sat down at the small table with the map and indicated for Don to join him.

"What am I walking into?" Don asked, pulling out a small notebook.

"A recon plane spotted a troop concentration moving west, here." He pointed to a spot on the map. "Battalion needs you to guard these crossroads here in this grid on the overlay."

Don started to write down the information. "How many troops did he see?"

"I don't know."

"What kind of troops?" He finished writing. "They have tanks, horses, artillery?"

"I wish I could help you. He took fire, got the fuck out of there. Enough to spook the Colonel. All the tanks are driving on Berlin. There's a couple of thousand cooks, mechanics, and doctors here. Those Krauts hit them, it'll be a slaughter. All we got is you." Don stood up straight and pocketed his notebook. Jo could tell he was annoyed by the situation. "We need you to the crossroads as fast as you can. Secure them. Don't stop for anything. You understand? Take my gas if you have to. If those troops get past you, they're gonna smash into the supply train. Then the whole division is fucked."

"All right, sir. We're on the way." Don started to walk away.

"Wait!" Jo called to stop him. "Is that it? Are you sending him alone?" she asked the Captain.

"He's got the three other tanks to go with him too."

"What about infantry?" She walked over to the table. "If they come across a Tiger and they've got Panzerfaust, they're fucked. With all due respect, sir, it's suicide and a waste of resources."

"What the fuck would you have me do? I lost half the infantry today and what's left is dead on their feet as it is. The infantry would only slow them down anyway and we don't have the time for that."

"There has to be something we can do."

"I'm sorry, Travers, my hands are tied."

Jo rubbed a hand down her face with a sigh and looked to Don. Suddenly there were shouts of "Incoming!" Jo gabbed Waggoner and pulled him to the side of the building and Don followed. Bombs started dropping all over the town, concentrated in the square. Just as fast as the bombs came, they were over. Don immediately left and disappeared into the dust. Captain Waggoner coughed at the dust and waved it away from his face. Jo grabbed his attention again.

"Send me."

"What?"

"Send me with them."

"Travers, I can't-"

"You can. I insist. I can be their fucking medic and infantry in one!"

"Travers you've been at it since before sunup."

"And I'll keep at it till the next sunup and longer if I have to." Jo turned her head to look at the damage in the square now that the dust was settling. She lost her train of thought as she saw Grady pulling Norman away from the rubble of the building she occupied not a half hour ago. She walked to the archway and looked out. She was alone again in the world, her aunt was gone. She didn't know how to feel about that. On the one hand, she hadn't really known the woman, she was a complete stranger. On the other, she was family and the woman seemed nice enough. Her determination was stronger than ever though.

"I can't let you go. I'm sorry." the Captain said from behind her.

She whipped around and faced him. "I'm going either way. Here," she dug into her pocket, "demote me for insubordination." She threw the pins to Waggoner. They hit him in the torso and fell to the ground. "Where is our confiscated Panzerfaust?" She was practically manic.

He just stared at her. "Travers-"

"Where's the Panzerfaust?!"

He heaved a sigh. "Fine. They're in the back of one of the deuce-and-a-half. Go." Jo immediately started running towards one of the trucks. "Good luck!" She heard him yell after her.

She was lucky, the first truck she came to had a Panzerfaust lying there. She grabbed it and ran towards _Fury_. She climbed up the side and was confronted by Don.

"What are you doing here?" He grabbed a gas can from Bible.

"I'm coming with you." Jo stated.

"No, you are not." He strapped the gas to the back of the tank.

"I am. You need me. And if you won't let me ride with you, then I'll ride with Binkowski."

"Then you best get your ass over to _Murder Inc._ because I'm not letting you ride with me. I won't let you get taken out with me if I get hit."

"Don't say shit like that, Don." She gave him a concerned look. She hated it when he started thinking like that, even if his job was to minimize casualties.

"You said it yourself earlier. The first tank usually gets hit in an ambush. I'm not going to risk it."

"But, Don-" She growled at him.

He turned on her. "If I can lose five men instead of six in case of an attack, then that's what I'm going to do! Got it?" He stared her down until she yielded. His tone softened. "War makes eternal pessimists of us all. Now go." She gave him a hard look. She didn't want to leave. "Go, or I'll throw you off the tank myself." He wasn't giving in.

"Fuck you." She said softly before she slid off the side of _Fury_ and ran over to _Murder Inc._, Panzerfaust in tow. She quickly climbed up the front of the tank like she used to when she served Binkowski and went to the back. Jo clapped Binkowski on the shoulder as she passed him and took up her post.

"Don kicked you off _Fury_?" He asked.

"Yeah, he doesn't want me to come on the mission, so he doesn't want me on his tank. Plus he seems to be pissed off about something else."

"You didn't hear?" He asked looking at her.

"Hear what?"

"He was all that came back from Third Platoon this morning."

"Christ." She glanced at Don and watched as _Fury_ passed them. He looked briefly at _Murder Inc._, but avoided Jo's gaze. She couldn't believe he wouldn't tell her about something like that.

"Command sent five tanks out on a mission last night. We didn't hear a damn thing. Thought he was dead for sure, then he came rolling into camp. Just one tank minus an AD. That's all that survived the battle."

Jo was shocked. "Why wouldn't he tell me that?"

"I don't know, but just because he fucks you, doesn't mean he's your boyfriend."

"I never said he was my boyfriend. And what the fuck is that supposed to mean exactly?"

"It means he doesn't even tell us all the shit he's been through, so why should he tell you? 'Sides it's not like you tell him all the shit you've been through either. Right? As long as I've known you, you've played things pretty close to the chest. I remember having to pry info out of you."

"You nagged me is more like it. I only told you shit to get you to shut up. How did you find out about Don and me anyway?"

"First off, I have these fucking things on my face called eyes, it's pretty obvious. You kind of follow him around when you two are in the same area."

"I do not."

"You do. He follows you around sometimes too. Don't worry about it. And second, I found out you two were fucking when I went to get Don for something and heard you two going at it."

"What?! How do you know it was me?" She could feel a blush creeping up her neck.

"Oh, Wardaddy! Your dick is so huge!" He said in his best falsetto. Jo's face fell with realization and then he started cracking up.

"You are such a fucking liar. You never heard us."

"No, but you should have seen your fucking face when I said I did. It was fucking priceless!" Binkowski fell into another fit of laughter. Jo cracked a smile.

"It. Wasn't. That. Fucking. Funny." Jo said, punctuating each word with a punch to Binkowski's arm.

He was still giggling. "Yes, it was!" Binkowski's laughter died down a little.

"So how did you really find out?"

"You were both missing one afternoon and I've never known Don to fuck the locals. It doesn't take much to put two and two together." Binkowski paused, listening to someone over the radio.

"Copy. We are right behind you." He pounded his hand on the top of the tank. "Alright ladies, let's get this fucking show on the road."

_Murder Inc._'s engine roared to life. They started pulling out and following the convoy. As they passed the bank, Jo noticed Nancy looking out one of the windows. Nancy waved to Jo and Jo gave her a short nod back. She was going to get all the boys back safely or die trying. With that, Jo turned her attention back front and watched as they rolled out of town.


	4. Battlefield

Jo started patting down her pockets. "Fuck."

"What is it?" Binkowski asked. Jo took off her bag and rifled through it.

"Goddamn it!" She put her bag back on.

"What the fuck is wrong?"

"I forgot to grab more ammo for my pistol and my Thompson. I was so concerned about getting the Panzerfaust, I forgot."

"Don't worry. I've got your ass covered." He ducked down into the tank and came up with an ammo box. She grabbed it and opened it up. It held three full magazines and some loose bullets.

A smile spread over Jo's face. "You are a life saver, Top." She pulled the magazines out, placed them in her belt, and loaded her revolver. Closing the box, she handed it back to Binkowski. She noticed he was smiling at her. "What?"

"You just haven't called me Top in a long time."

"I haven't been on your tank in a long time."

"I know. It's just-"

"Familiar. Yeah." She gave a sad smile.

"I was going to say really fucking weird, but familiar works, I guess."

"You weren't going to say weird, otherwise you wouldn't have been smiling at me." He shrugged.

"Okay, you caught me. I was going to say nice coming from your mouth again. A part of my crew that left, but isn't dead."

"You aren't going all mushy on me are you? Because if you are we can get Davis over here and have a little group hug and sing 'Kumbaya'."

He laughed at her. "Do you even know 'Kumbaya'?"

"No. Do you?"

"Not really."

"Then that settles it, no 'Kumbaya'."

"Seriously though, it's really fucking good having you here. It seems like such a long time since you were last here."

"I know. It's only been six months since I left your tank, but it feels like lifetimes ago. And I must confess, _Fury_ has ruined me to all other tanks."

"How's that?"

"She's an Easy 8. I didn't really notice how nice of a ride she was until I had to ride this piece of junk again. We've been going about twenty minutes now and my legs are already killing me from standing here."

_Murder Inc._'s engine suddenly died.

"See what you fucking did. You talk bad about my baby and she dies." He grabbed the radio. "Love 1-5 to Wardaddy. We are dead in the water, Don. Engine just gave out. I'll need time to fix it." He waited for a response. "Copy. Love 1-5 out." All the tanks in the convoy up ahead came to a halt.

The other hatch on the turret opened up and Denison, their loader, popped his head up. "Let me see your hands." He said to Jo.

"What?"

"How big are your hands?" He grabbed one. "Nice and tiny, perfect. I need your help down here."

"I can help if it's mechanical issues, but electrical is lost on me."

"I'll walk you through it." Denison dropped back inside of the tank.

"Okay, give me a second." Jo took off her gun, helmet, and bag and stuck her head into the tank. "Where do you need me?"

"Get your ass in here." Jo did as she was told. "Come over here." She went to the far left of the tank.

"What is it?"

"You see that wire hanging there?" He pointed to a green wire.

"Yeah."

"It's come loose from the side of that casing, but my fingers are too big to stick it back into its hole."

"I feel like there is a sex joke somewhere in there." Jo commented.

Denison thought for a minute. "Not that I can think of. Anyway, think you can manage that?"

"Probably." She traded places with him and squeezed herself into the small space. She stuck her finger into the side of the casing and felt for the hole. She found it. She grabbed the wire and guided it with her finger into the hole. Moving her finger out of the way, she pushed it in farther. There was a little spark and the tank came back to life.

"You really are a wonder woman." She heard from behind her.

"Need anything else while I'm down here?"

"Not unless you want to go for a roll with me."

"Didn't you just fuck a civilian less than an hour ago?"

"No. We left before I got a chance to." Denison said defensively.

Jo rolled her eyes at him and gently shoved him out of the way. She made her way to the hatch. Pausing on the way out, she gently ran her hand across the rim. "Sorry I called you a piece of junk. I didn't mean it." she whispered to the tank. Jo climbed out of the turret, shutting the hatch behind her. She grabbed her helmet, gun, and bag and put them back on.

"We're good to go. Wire came loose." Binkowski nodded.

"Okay, Don. We're back up and running thanks to your girl."

"I'm not his girl." she said climbing onto the turret with the Panzerfaust to sit. Binkowski started laughing. "What's so funny?" she asked. He started laughing some more.

"Holy shit, that's fantastic!"

"What is?" His eyes went wide and he cracked up some more.

"If you two aren't in an actual relationship you should be. You both have said the same thing, at the same time, three times in a row!" He wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes. "Copy. Love 1-5 out." The tanks started moving again.

"You two are such a fucking match for each other. It's gross." He had a big grin on his face.

"Well, I'd like to survive the war first before I start planning for the future."

"That's something Don would have fucking said."

"It's a sound piece of advice."

"Again."

Jo gave him the middle finger and turned her attention up front. She noticed someone was sitting on top of _Fury._ She guessed it was probably Norman based on his haircut. Why the hell would Norman be sitting on the turret, though? He had his own hatch to look out of if he wanted.

She put it out of her mind and focused on the horizon. They drove for another five minutes when she noticed black smoke in the distance.

"Goddamn. This war needs to be over soon." She said to herself.

"It will be. We're in Germany." Binkowski chimed in. Jo turned her head and looked at him.

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

"Hitler's forces are low. Why the fuck do you think we've been coming across more civilian soldiers and less SS? The fucking Nazis are all but defeated."

"How the fuck do you know that? How do you know that this isn't some sort of fucking scheme and he's just pulled back forces to Berlin for protection?"

"Because we are on this fucking mission. If he wanted protection he would keep as many troops with him as he fucking could."

"Since when have you been a military strategist?"

"Since when have you been such a sarcastic bitch?"

Jo thought for a moment. "Since always. Or for at least as long as you've known me."

Binkowski raised his eyebrows. "Oh, right. I forgot."

They looked at each other for a second and then burst out laughing.

"Fuck I missed this." He said to her.

"Me too. You need to add more 'fucks' to your sentences, though. You don't say it often enough." She smiled at him. He chuckled. "I find it hard to believe that no one can sling shit at you like I do."

He shrugged. "I think they're all too fucking scared about what I might do to them if they try it."

"But shit slinging is half the fun of being in a tank."

"Tell me about it."

Jo looked at Binkowski and noticed something on his cheek. "Is that blood?" she asked, moving closer to him.

"Huh?"

"On your cheek, is that blood?" She pointed at his left cheek. "And is it yours?"

He rubbed at his cheek and pulled his hand away. "Don't think it's my blood." He thought for a moment. "You know what it is. Some poor fucker stepped on a grenade yesterday. Must have got some spray on me."

"And you didn't wash it off?"

He shrugged. "Didn't remember that it was there."

Jo shook her head at him. "That's just gross." He shrugged again. She sighed at him. "Well, since he stepped on a grenade, let me take a look."

"What for?"

"Shrapnel, cuts, some sort of open wound. If you were injured, infection can kill just as well as a bullet."

"Fine." He took off his helmet and Jo started her inspection.

She wiped at the dried blood, flaking it off. "Well everything looks okay … Wait." She noticed a spot in his hairline that looked different. It seemed to be a small cut. She felt it. There wasn't anything that seemed to be sticking out of it and it didn't feel warmer to the touch than the rest of his head. "You have a small cut, but everything appears normal. It's scabbed over nicely."

"See, I told you. Nothing wrong with me."

"You said nothing of the sort."

"It was implied when I said 'Don't think it's my blood'."

"Why are you such an asshole?"

"Don asked me that very question this morning."

"Yeah? The worst part is that you are a charming asshole."

"A charming asshole?" He grinned. "What's that mean?"

"It means I hate your guts, but I love you to death." She smiled at him.

"Well that seems like a good problem to have from you." He grinned some more.

Jo scoffed at him. She leaned in and was about to kiss his cheek when he grabbed her chin and kissed her on the lips. Her eyes went wide and she was too shocked to do anything. Binkowski pulled away and let her go.

She stayed silent for a minute trying to comprehend what happened. "What the fuck?" She composed herself. "I can't believe you just did that. I should slap you for doing that."

"But you aren't?"

"… No."

"Does that mean you liked it?" He sounded hopeful.

She scoffed again and started laughing. "Absolutely not. It was how I would imagine kissing my brother would feel." His face fell a little. "And you are a terrible kisser, by the way."

"No need to add insult to injury."

Jo sighed. "You get a free pass this time because it was just a kiss and I left myself open to that, but if you try to do that again physical injury will incur, not just emotional. Got it?"

"Yeah." He sighed and focused on the road ahead.

Jo shifted to a more comfortable position and pulled a half-eaten package of broken crackers out of her pocket. She offered some to Binkowski.

"No, thanks. Already ate."

"Suit yourself." She shoved one of the broken crackers into her mouth. It was stale already. She had only opened the package this morning. Jo sighed and ate they rest of her crackers slowly, trying her best to savor them. They weren't the most appetizing thing in the world, but they kept her from starving and they were all the food she had left.

Jo crumpled up the empty package and threw it into the tank.

"What the hell? My tank isn't a trash can." Binkowski said, irritated.

"I don't need to risk it making noise if I stick it back in my pocket." He just looked at her. "Once we are done with the mission I'll throw it in the garbage. I promise."

"You better." He faced the road ahead of them again.

Jo shifted position again, trying to preemptively avoid her leg falling asleep. The new position was as comfortable as one could get sitting on a piece of uneven metal. Despite the rattling of _Murder Inc._, Jo caught herself nodding off several times.

Binkowski chuckled. "Tired?"

Jo yawned and stretched her limbs. "Apparently."

"See? She's not such a bad ride after all."

Jo slipped off the back of the turret and onto the back of the tank. "That, or maybe it's because I've been up since before 0500 hours this morning." She took her post behind the gun, determined not to fall asleep again.

"Shit. How much coffee have you had?"

"None. You know I don't drink coffee."

"Didn't know if that changed or not, now you are infantry."

"No. I grabbed a cup this morning to warm my hands, but I gave it to Don. He seemed to need it and now I know why. He probably hasn't slept since yesterday."

Jo scanned the horizon as a breeze blew through. Something to their right caught her eye, but she wasn't sure why. The wind blew again and there was a suspiciously still spot in the distance. She narrowed her eyes to try to better focus.

"What is it?"

"I'm not sure." Jo reached out her hand, eyes never leaving the spot. "Let me see your binoculars." Binkowski took them off and put them in her hand. She put the binoculars up to her eyes, found the spot again, and focused them.

Before her brain could process what she saw before her, there was a muzzle flash and a whistling noise. Time slowed to a crawl for Jo. She looked to Binkowski and tightened her grip on the Panzerfaust. Next thing she knew, Jo was flying through the air. She saw a second explosion and the turret popped off the tank. The shell must have hit their ammo causing the other explosion.

She landed hard on the thankfully soft ground. She wasn't sure how long it took for her to come to her senses, but when she blinked the rest of the convoy was backing up into the field to the left of the road.

"You are alive." She told herself. "You aren't dead, you are alive. See if everything works." Jo raised her head, all her body parts seemed to still be attached. She wiggled her fingers and toes, everything was in working order and nothing seemed to hurt badly.

"You are fine. Now get your ass up and fight." Jo sat up fully and took off her pack. She looked around and spotted the Panzerfaust a few yards away, seemingly undamaged. She strapped her gun across her chest, grabbed the Panzerfaust, and ran into the nearby brush for cover.

She spotted the Tiger tank just before a shell whistled past her location and towards the other tanks. The Tiger was still a ways off from her, but at that moment it didn't really matter. Jo wasn't going to wait around for the Nazis to take out another one of the Shermans. She started to run along the hedgerow towards it, letting her adrenaline carry her forward. She ran as hard and fast as she possibly could, but the brush and mud was thick, slowing her down.

One of the tanks sent a smoke shell and it detonated in front of the Tiger. Jo gave a small smile at blinding the Germans, albeit temporarily. There were more smoke shells fired and Jo could hear the Tiger's engine revving. She saw the Tiger starting to advance forward. Distracted, she tripped on a root. She hit her face on a branch, causing a nose bleed, and the Panzerfaust went tumbling out of her hand. She scrambled to her feet and retrieved the Panzerfaust again.

The sound of her heart pounding in her ears drowned out the noise of the guns around her. Jo was getting close to the Tiger and changed her trajectory towards it. There were shells flying everywhere. She would be lucky if she didn't get herself blown up. A shell from one of the Shermans bounced in front of Jo and she ducked. It exploded far enough away that she wasn't harmed.

She scrambled to her feet again and there was an explosion to her left. One of the tanks and its crew was gone. She got within range of the Tiger. Sliding on her knees, she took the safety off the Panzerfaust, aimed, and squeezed. Nothing happened. Another shell ricocheted off the Tiger and exploded nearby. It would have killed her had she been a yard to the right of where she was. She checked over the entire rocket in her hand. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with it and the safety was off. She aimed again and squeezed. Once again, nothing happened. Another tank exploded.

Jo started to panic and a sense of dread came over her. She didn't know what to do. Her Thompson would do no good here. Three tanks were already gone and there was a high probability _Fury_ was next. Jo tried to think. She couldn't just drop the projectile on the ground, what if _Fury_ accidentally ran over it? Shoving the Panzerfaust into the tracks of the Tiger wasn't really an option. It was dangerous to get that close with the tank moving, plus the explosion would kill her and she wished very much to be alive right now. Whether she would be wishing the same in a minute she wasn't sure, but right now living was a top priority. Duck and cover wouldn't work either. It ran the risk of being run over or blown up.

Out of options, she ran away from the tanks in front of her, back towards the hedgerow. Once she was a relatively safe distance away she turned around and helplessly watched. She wasn't a praying woman, but Jo started praying that _Fury_ and all her crew came out of this alive.

She could vaguely see green and red tracers bouncing off the two tanks. The Tiger was lining up on _Fury_ and Jo's heart jumped into her throat as the tank was hit. The smoke cleared a little and she could see the shell only hit the logs attached to the side of _Fury_. She could at least breathe again. _Fury_ shot the Tiger at close range. It should have knocked them out, but it just ricocheted again. The Tiger hit _Fury_ again, this time in the front. Jo thought she was going to die from all the adrenaline and irregular breathing.

The two tanks started to maneuver, doing some sort of death dance, and _Fury _fired again. It was a miss. _Fury_ started going in a different direction. Jo was near hysteric and found herself actually cheering out loud when _Fury_ landed one in the Nazis' ass. Her cheer was short lived though as the Tiger was still moving. Another hit and it was done for. The field was suddenly much quieter.

Jo breathed a sigh of relief. She could have melted into a puddle where she stood. She forced herself to move. The adrenaline wearing off, she could feel the fatigue. The Nazis exited their tank and were immediately gunned down by Don. Red tracers took out the commander.

She shuffled towards _Fury_, Panzerfaust still in tow.

"DON!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice cracking. _Fury_'s engine shut off.

"JO?!" She heard Don call back. Spurred on by the sound of his voice she forced herself to run, despite her legs feeling like Jell-O. "Jo, is that you?!" She made her way around the burning Tiger and into Don's line of view.

"You're alive!" He had a relieved look in his eyes.

She gave a little laugh though her nose and wiped the blood away with her sleeve. "Yeah." She gave a small, sad smile to him.

Suddenly the look on Don's face changed and he looked furious. "Where the fuck were you?! You were supposed to take out the Tiger with the Panzerfaust! Because of you we lost two more tanks than we should have!"

The smile fell from her face. Any joy he had seeing her alive was quickly replaced by anger. She knew he was just upset over the deaths of the others and he was venting, it happened occasionally, but it still hurt. Little did he know, Jo did feel personally responsible for what had happened and his shouting at her wasn't helping. She had promised herself that she would make sure everyone was safe and alive and now three quarters of them were dead. It was a stupid promise to make in the first place, but she still made it. She had failed and there was nothing she could do about it. There were no do overs in war. What happened had happened and there was no changing things now. Nothing she could do would bring back the three crews lost in the last five minutes.

"And we shouldn't have lost Binkowski to begin with! What the fuck were you doing? Painting your nails?"

The nails comment struck a nerve in her. "What about you?! You were the fucking lead tank! What the fuck were you doing?! Jacking off?!" Don's face changed. He looked almost remorseful. "You should have spotted the fucking Tiger first! I was looking at the fucking thing through binoculars when the goddamn tank got hit!" She could feel hot tears stinging her eyes. "I was there next to the Tiger before Roy got hit and the fucking Panzerfaust wouldn't fire!"

"Did you turn the safety off?"

"Of course I turned the fucking safety off! Who the fuck do you think I am?! Miss America?!" He didn't have a response for that. "The fucking thing just didn't work. Probably took too many jostles and knocked something out of place." She looked at the Panzerfaust in her hand and dropped it to the ground. "So much for German engineering," she said with a dry laugh. She wiped away the few tears that fell and gave a sniffle.

"You should have stuck with a bazooka."

"Bazookas are shit against tanks. You know that."

Both of them had calmed down a bit now. She looked back up to Don. "Is everyone okay in the tank? I mean, obviously they aren't okay, but is anyone hurt? Do they need medical attention?" He dipped down into the tank and came back up.

"No, everyone's fine."

She nodded. "Good."

"What about you?" He indicated her face.

"Oh, I tripped on a root. Just got a nosebleed is all. I'm fine." A silence fell between the two.

Jo shuffled a few steps closer to _Fury_ so she could get a look at the battlefield. She looked to each of the smoldering remains of the tanks and their crew members. Instantly, her chest started to tighten and she could barely breathe. Her tongue and limbs started to tingle, her vision dimmed, and there was a deafening buzzing in her ears. It felt like somebody was squeezing her heart in their fist and she felt nauseous.

She clutched at her chest with a grunt of pain and she collapsed into the mud. Jo fell forward, using her forearm and knees for support as the pain in her chest worsened. She didn't know what was happening, but it scared the hell out of her. She concentrated on just trying to force air in and out of her lungs.

Next thing she knew, someone was lifting her front up from the mud. Her helmet was removed and her free hand placed on his shoulder. Gloved hands gripped at her face and tipped her head up to look at him. It was Don. She could see that he was talking, but she couldn't hear what he was saying. The buzzing in her ears had subsided, but she was still deaf. She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder, concentrating on her breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Her hand slipped down and she clutched at the front of his coat like her life depended on it. For all she knew, right now it did.

The tingling in her mouth and limbs died down and she could finally hear again. Don grabbed her head again.

"What's wrong? Tell me what's wrong." He looked her in the eyes.

"Feels like someone's trying to rip my heart out of my chest." Her words came out a little slurred. She also felt like crying, vomiting, and passing out all at once, but she wouldn't do that in front of Don. He wasn't allowed to do it right now, so she wasn't either.

She closed her eyes again and returned her head to his shoulder. He stroked at her hair and back. Eventually the nausea and crippling pain subsided. She gave a dry laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking."

"About what?" He continued to comfort her.

"That if I died on that road my last words to you would have been, 'fuck you'." She gave another small dry laugh, smiling. Then she burst out laughing hysterically. The tightening in her chest melted away and she felt normal again, if drained. She sat up and continued laughing so hard she had tears streaming down her face. She couldn't stop. She had to hold onto Don again as her body shook with laughter. She didn't know why she found it so amusing to have 'fuck you' be her last words to Don, but she did.

Her laughing calmed a little bit as she got a cramp in her side and she looked at Don, a big smile on her face. He returned a small smile.

"You know if you laugh yourself to death, they will still be your last words to me." He grinned at her and she started her laughing fit all over again. "Come on." He pulled her to her feet and kept a hand on her arm just in case. "We have to get a move on. Those crossroads won't defend themselves. You've got your Thompson. Here's your helmet." He placed it on her head and she strapped it back on. "Where's your bag?" He looked around her to the ground surrounding them. "Jo, where's your pack?"

She pointed back towards the road. "Over there, behind _Murder Inc_."

"Good. Come on." He led her over to _Fury. _"Bible, gun front." He shouted. The turret turned and stopped once it was facing the front of the tank again. Don helped Jo and made sure she made it safely up the side of the tank. She sat down on the back of the tank, leaning against the turret, and pulled her gun off, resting it in her lap. Jo was still giggling a little and was starting to get a headache. She was so exhausted, and thirsty, and probably hungry.

She could use a days rest at a basecamp. Get a shower and clean clothes. Have a hot meal from the canteen and catch up on her sleep. That would be nice. But that wasn't going to happen at least until this mission was over.

"Coon-ass, get up here." Grady poked his helmet out of the other hatch.

"What is it, Top?"

"Get out here and man the .50."

"Why the hell I gotta do it? Why can't Jo?"

"Just shut up and do as you're told."

Grady climbed out of the tank and stood next to Jo.

"The fuck's wrong with her?"

"Nothing. Gordo, get us out of here. Go back to the road."

_Fury_ came to life again underneath Jo. They made their way to the road. "Gordo, stop here." The tank stopped. "Grady, get your ass over to _Murder Inc_. and find Jo's bag."

"I ain't no fucking errand boy, Top." Grady growled at him.

"Do as I say or you'll find yourself with a few less teeth."

He slid off the side of the tank and Jo watched as he walked towards the flaming ruin of the tank. She just stared at the flames and smoke coming out of it. She should have paid more attention, or at least have died with the rest of them. She didn't notice Grady had come back until he dropped her pack into her lap.

Jo drew her legs up to her chest as much as she could with her pack and gun in her lap. Resting her elbows on her knees, she drew her helmet down over her face and held it there. She didn't know if she was going to cry or not, but if she did, she didn't want anyone to see it.

_Fury_ started down the road again and within minutes, Jo had fallen asleep.


	5. The Quiet Before the Storm

Jo was shocked awake.

An explosion to her left rattled the tank and a body fell down on top of her. As far as she could remember, it was Grady, but she didn't know if he was still in one piece. She couldn't see or hear anything. Her helmet was still in front of her eyes and the explosion left her ears ringing.

Jo managed to maneuver out from under Grady enough to pull her helmet back up to its proper place on her head. She looked at him and he didn't seem to have any injuries, but he looked terrified. After what had happened in the field, she wasn't surprised. She would be terrified too if she wasn't still trying to wake up.

Her hearing was coming back and she managed to get her hands free. Grabbing the front of his jacket, Jo yelled at him, "Are you okay?" He nodded at her in response and pulled out of her grasp.

_Fury_ came to a standstill and her crew started to scramble.

"Shit! Not another fucking Tiger!" Grady panicked.

"A mine." Don stated coolly.

"Where's it coming from?" Grady was no longer on top of Jo. Instead, trying to look for a Tiger in the distance.

"Where?" Bible asked, unclipping the .50 cal from its mount.

"Settle down. It's a mine. We hit a mine, is all." Don's words seeped into his crew and they all started to relax. Jo even let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

"Everybody off." She heard Boyd shout. Grady climbed down the side of the tank. "Grady?"

"Yeah, I'm off." He paused on the side of the tank. "Shit."

Jo rolled onto her back and just stared up at the sky listening to the crew around her.

"How bad is it?" Don asked.

"It's broke as fuck. Broke a bogie, too."

"Can you fix it?"

"Yeah, why not?"

Jo felt a rain drop hit her face as Don started ordering the men around. Just what she needed, more rain today. She was sick of the rain. It had been nothing but mud and rain since the ground thawed. Having her clothes soaked through was not a pleasant feeling. And she didn't like it when the mud tried to suck her boots off. It made her almost long for the days of the Dust Bowl in Oklahoma. The drought presented its own issues though.

"Why are you still on the tank? Didn't you hear the order to get off?" Don asked, facing her from his hatch.

Jo looked at him. "Is the tank on fire or about to explode?"

"No."

"Then give me a minute. Besides, you are still on it too." She focused back on the sky and clasped her hands together, resting them on her stomach.

Don climbed out of his hatch, onto the turret, and then dropped down onto the back of the tank next to Jo. He looked up to the sky and then squatted down, looking at Jo. "What's so interesting up there?"

"Nothing. That's the point." Don glanced back up at the sky and back to Jo again.

"I don't get it."

She eyed him and gave a sigh. "It's just very serene and peaceful. There are no bombers flying above, no gunshots in the distance. The only noise is us and that's quieter than usual." She cast her eyes back up to the sky. "I'm taking in the moment."

"Taking in the moment, huh? Well don't take too long. Never know when that troop formation is going to arrive and kill the rest of us."

"And it's gone. You had to ruin it, didn't you?" She looked to Don again.

"We are here to fight a war, not sight see."

Jo was about to respond when Grady interrupted them.

"It's an aid station. They all dead."

Jo sat up. "Did you say aid station?"

"Yeah."

"Anything usable left?"

"Fuck if I know. I don't know nothin' 'bout medicine."

"I'm going to go check for supplies." She said to Don before grabbing her things and sliding off the side of the tank. She landed on her feet harder than usual. Must still be worn out from before. Jo made her way over to the building and walked through the door and out of the rain. She stilled at what she saw before her.

The sheer number of dead bodies riddled with bullet holes and missing limbs laid out on tables between bits of machinery. All the bits of bloodied gauze and instruments. It reminded her of the aid station she worked in before the SS captured her. The bodies also brought to mind the meaningless amount of death that happened over an hour ago. She was back in the field again already, looking at the burning tanks. Jo could taste the acid at the back of her throat as her stomach churned. She ran over to the nearest support pillar and let loose her stomach's contents, appropriately adding the smell of vomit to the already pungent smell of rotting bodies and maggots.

Any distance her sleep had put between the battle and now was gone. She was once again exhausted and drained. This time though, she could cry.

Jo crawled to the opposite side of the pillar and leaned heavily against it. She slid down it all the way to the floor as tears welled up in her eyes, and cried. She cried for the deaths of Binkowski, and Davis, and Peterson and their respective crews. She cried for the death of Irma, ruining any chances she had of regaining a family. She cried for the deaths of all the soldiers she had made friends with and died. She even cried for the deaths of her brothers and father, the grief of her past finally catching up to her. Jo wasn't sure how long or hard she cried, but sobs ripped through her body as she cried into her hands.

Finally the tears stopped. She had a headache again and a nap would be remiss, there was no time for that. Jo gave a few shuddering breaths and pushed herself up off the floor. There was a tap nearby and she walked over to it. She turned it and at first nothing came out. She turned it some more and it started to drip. The drips turned into a slow trickle of water. It was enough for Jo to rinse the mud, blood, sweat, and tears from her face and hands. When she turned off the tap the floor was water stained.

Cleaned and spent, Jo started to work on her initial goal: finding supplies. She walked past one of the bodies buzzing with flies to a supply tray. There wasn't anything salvageable there. She moved on to the next one and the next one. There weren't many supplies left, but she found a bottle of morphine, four gauze pads, two wrap bandages, some packing gauze, and a packaged thin glass tube that might come in handy.

Jo left the aid station and schlepped through the mud to _Fury_. Don was standing on the ground behind _Fury_ going through things strapped to the back of the tank. She leaned heavily against the back of the tank next to where he was working and looked at him. He paused in his work and looked her over.

"You look like shit." He stated, returning to the boxes.

"I feel like shit." He stopped what he was doing and started batting his hand around her face and head, not touching her. "What are you doing?" Jo pulled her head back and swatted his hand away. "If you are testing my reflexes you better stop or I'll kick you in the balls." Don gave her an amused smile and returned to what he was doing. She watched him work. "I've been half dead before and it didn't feel anywhere near as bad as this."

Jo reached up to take her helmet off and noticed her hand was trembling. She held it in midair and looked at it curiously for a few seconds. "Well that's new."

"What is?"

"My hand's shaking." She held it out for him to see. She checked her other hand. "Both of them are. Strange, it's never happened before."

Don glanced at her hands, but continued with his work. "What else is wrong with you? You said you feel like shit. What's off?"

"Where do I begin?" She took her helmet off and ran a hand through her hair. "I feel empty. Like I'm a husk of myself. I'm light headed and I feel like a light breeze could blow me over. Worst of all, I don't care anymore."

"About what?"

"Anything." That caught Don's attention. "I mean, this is just a body." She gestured to herself. "It breathes and moves and bleeds just like any other. What the fuck makes it so special? How is it any different from someone else's body? What the hell is this war even about? People killing people. For what? Because some fucking asshole thinks that certain people are better than others? Pointless. It's all fucking pointless. Let the Germans kill me, I don't give a shit. They've done enough other shit to me, killing me would be the nicest." Don was on his guard and Jo had no idea why. "What's wrong?"

Suddenly Don tackled Jo to the ground, pinning her, and wrenched her bayonet out of her hand. Jo didn't even know how it got there. "Boyd," he called, holding out the bayonet. Bible came over and took the knife. Don held Jo's hands down so she couldn't grab at any other weapons. He leaned over her so their faces were near each other. He started speaking to her in hushed tones.

"Your problem isn't that you don't give a shit. Your problem is that you care too much. We lost fifteen men back there. Ten of whom you knew probably better than any of us here. You've reached your breaking point. I've seen it happen time and time again. Don't think I don't know why you took so long in there. Now, what's going to happen after I let you up is you are going to surrender all of your weapons and ammunition and get on the back of the tank where you are out of everybody's way. My job is to keep my crew alive no matter what and if you get in the way of that I will not hesitate to put a bullet in you. Got it?"

She just stared up at him. Jo was positive half the things he said were true. The other half, she wasn't so sure off. She did know Davis and Binkowski's crews better than Don and company, even if they knew them longer. There was no way in hell she was broken though. The very idea infuriated her. It was better than not feeling anything at least.

He shook her. "Got it?"

"Yes," she replied through gritted teeth. He sat up, still holding her hands down.

"When was the last time you ate? I know you didn't have lunch and you were easier than usual to take down, even with taking you by surprise."

"I had some crackers on the way here, but what's left of them is in there now." She tipped her head towards the building.

"When did you last eat something other than crackers?"

She tried to think. It had been a long time. "I don't know."

Don gave a sigh. "I thought you had been looking thinner than usual lately. Get some rations in you when you get on the tank. It might stop the shaking and light headedness."

"I don't have any rations."

"Why not?"

"Sgt. Dillard and his men steal them from me."

"Why?"

"They are under the impression that because I'm shorter than most of them, I don't need the food as much. Not to mention that they want me dead. Heaven forbid that there be a woman on the frontlines fighting next to them."

Don gave a frustrated growl. "And you just let them do this to you?"

"Now I do. Because then I at least get to keep the crackers. I used to fight them and get nothing along with a pistol pointed at my head if I didn't stop. We usually aren't at camp long enough for me to get something from the kitchens, so I would prefer to have scraps over nothing."

He sighed. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"Because it didn't concern you and what would happen then? You would get me rations whenever I see you? They go through my bag and steal any extra food I manage to find every day. It wouldn't have worked and only have led to more trouble."

He stared at her. "I just opened a new crate of rations. Get a box out of there." He released her hands and stood up.

Jo was slow getting to her feet. He grabbed her and started removing things, handing them to Bible. He took her gun, pack, and pistol. Don started unbuckling her pouch belt.

"Christ, I'm not five. I can undo my own buckles."

"You are right now," he said removing it and looking her in the eyes.

Jo looked at him with a sad frustration and gave a sigh through her nose. She couldn't believe that he was doing this to her, treating her like a child. She was a grown ass woman that could take care of herself. She had done so for nearly a year now over here and she didn't need him to start babying her now.

He took her holster too, and Jo was left with just her uniform and helmet. He turned her to face the tank and started frisking her.

"If you're looking for a blade in my boot, you are out of luck. I'm a soldier, not a spy. I don't have hidden weapons."

When he finished, he turned her around again to face him. "Up," he ordered gently, pointing at the tank.

"Canteen." She held out her hand.

He grabbed her belt from Boyd and unclipped the canteen, handing it to her. Once it was in her hand, she turned around and walked towards the front of _Fury_. It was an easier climb up from there. She walked to the back of the tank and grabbed a box of rations, before settling herself down against the turret.

Opening the box, she noticed it was a breakfast ration. Oh, well. Food was food. She dumped the contents into her lap. She pried the can opener off the bottom of the can and looked at the top. The protein of the day was chopped ham and eggs. She popped the top off and grabbed out a piece. It tasted disgusting cold, but Jo couldn't be bothered to heat it up right now. Besides, she was hungry enough, it didn't matter anyway. She opened a package of crackers to eat it with. Her mess kit was with Don and Boyd and she wasn't going to ask for that back too. Don probably wouldn't give it to her anyway, knowing him.

Jo found herself surprisingly enjoying her breakfast for dinner, even if it was cold. She was done with the ham and eggs when Don climbed onto the tank and sat beside her.

"How do you feel?"

She held her hand out in front of her. It was steady. "Better," she said through a mouthful of food. She swallowed. "My hands aren't shaking anymore."

"Lightheadedness?"

"Gone."

"Good." He dug in to his pocket and pulled something out. "Eat this too." He handed it to her. It was his D ration chocolate bar.

"I don't want it."

He looked at her. "That wasn't a request."

"Fine. I'll eat it later." She stuffed it into a coat pocket.

She held out her crackers to him, he stared at them. "Commanders need to eat too. They aren't immune to everything, as much as they like to think they are." He looked to her and with a sigh, took one.

Don settled back against the turret and ate his cracker. Jo took a swig of water from her canteen and offered it to Don. He took it, drank, and handed it back. She set the canteen aside and rested her head against Don's shoulder. They both just sat there, taking in the relative silence.

It felt peaceful and safe for Jo, even if there were Nazi troops coming to try to kill them.

"I think a part of me might have died back there." Jo said, breaking the silence.

"On the field?"

"When _Murder Inc. _got hit. Like I said, I saw it through the binoculars. I saw the muzzle flash and I looked to Mike and that was it. I thought I was a goner. But I opened my eyes and there I was, still on the road, still alive. I haven't been right since the adrenaline wore off, though. Not broken, but not right."

"I told you, you reached your breaking point."

"Then why aren't I crying for my mother and begging not to face the Nazis again like the rest of them?"

"Different people break in different ways." He pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

"He kissed me." Jo was surprised when Don didn't tense at hearing that.

"Who? Mike?"

"Yeah."

"He always was an asshole. You slap him?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Dunno. Maybe I knew in my bones what was going to happen. In the grand scheme of things, a kiss doesn't matter."

"Did you like it?"

"No."

"Then it's a moot point." He turned to the side of the tank and moved his feet off the side. "How you boys doing down there?"

"Be better if we didn't have to listen to you and Wonder Woman play house." Grady commented.

"Nobody's playing house. You just concentrate on getting us fixed up." He rested his elbow on the tank. Clearly he was staying over there.

Jo sat back up all the way and looked down the road they had come along. It had been a long day. She gave a sigh and collected the things in her lap. Jo reached for her pack where it had been set on the back of the tank and put her things away.

"Can I have my gun back?"

"No."

Jo stretched then sat back down, crossing her legs. She saw Don turn his head and suddenly she heard Norman shout, "Hey! Hey!"

Don slid off the side and Jo stood up to watch from where she was.

"Good evening, Norman. Why aren't you at your post?" Norman was running towards him. "Slow down." Don put a hand on Norman to get him to calm down a bit.

Norman looked desperate and frightened. "They're coming right now."

"Who's coming?"

"The Germans!"

"How many?" The crew started to pay attention and stopped what they were doing.

"Too many. Too many to count."

"How many?"

"About two, two maybe three hundred of them. They got vehicles too." Norman calmed a bit.

"Tanks?"

"No, no, no, just trucks." Don looked down the road from where Norman came and wandered ahead of _Fury_ a little way.

"Probably a bunch of bums looking to surrender, that's all." Grady added.

"No. No, no, no. They were marching. They were singing. They sounded like they wanted a fight."

"What do you mean they were singing?" asked Grady.

"Where?" Bible inquired.

"I'm telling you. Right over there."

"Hey, you hear that?" Grady asked everyone.

There was a faint sound of singing being carried on the wind.

"It's a goddamn SS battalion." Don confirmed, hands on his hips.

"Bullshit," commented Gordo.

"Excellent!" Jo said. She knew she should be scared, but she had some revenge to enact and an SS battalion would be the perfect thing to execute it upon.

_Fury_'s crew started to scramble about, collecting weapons, clothing, and tools. Don turned around as Bible started telling everybody what to do.

"We never run before, I ain't running now." Jo couldn't make out what Bible said. "We're gonna fight it out. I'm gonna hold this crossroad."

Grady was incensed. "What you mean, you're gonna hold… The tank's busted! The tank's fucking busted, Top!"

Bible tried to stop Don as he walked towards _Fury_. "Yeah you said that." Everyone started to fight with Don as he climbed across the tank and back where Jo was.

Everyone stopped shouting when Bible interrupted. "Stop! What are you doing?"

Jo moved out of the way as Don moved an ammo box. He stopped for a moment, thinking about what to do. "Get out of here. Get to that tree line," he said loading the .50 cal. "Boys, take care of yourselves. Get to that tree line." He looked at her. "You too, Jo."

"No. I made a promise to you and I intend to keep it." He nodded at her and continued on. She stayed out of his way as he kept setting things up.

He crouched down and looked to the crew. "It's alright."

Bible hummed his protest. "'It's alright.'"

"It's my home," Don replied, pounding a fist against _Fury_. Norman decided he was staying, climbing onto the tank, and the others followed suit.

"What's your plan?" Bible asked, on board _Fury_.

Don pounded his fist atop the turret. "Get us one of them dead Krauts." He turned around to make more preparations.

"Can I have my gun back now?" Jo asked.

"Yes."

"And my bayonet? You can keep the pistol. I don't really use it."

"You can have those too." Don turned towards Boyd. "Bible, get Wonder Woman her weapons back. We're gonna need her if we want to make it out of this thing alive."

"You sure that's a good idea? After what happened earlier?"

"She's fine now." Don looked at Jo. "You're fine now, right?" She nodded at him and he looked back at Bible. "See? She's fine. Just get her her weapons."

Bible gave Don an irritated look before entering the tank and coming back up with her weapons and pouch belt in hand. Jo took them from him and put the belt and holster back on and put the strap of the Thompson on her shoulder.

She jumped off the side of the tank and walked around to the right side. Jo grabbed the shovel out of the hole under the track and started walking away from _Fury._

"Where are you going?" Don asked.

Jo stopped and turned around. "I'm going to go dig myself a hole for cover. We both know that there isn't room for six men in a tank, especially during battle." She gave him a sad smile and turned back around, continuing on her way. Jo stopped when she was about twenty yards away from _Fury _and walked into the brush on the side of the road. She crouched down, found a spot where she had a clear view of _Fury, _and started digging. The hole was barely a foot deep, just deep enough that she didn't stick up and had a little cover. She mounded the dirt she moved at the front of the little ditch for better cover.

Jo grabbed some leaves and branches and scattered them on the side of the mound facing the road. Camouflage was key to her survival. She stuck some foliage in the netting on her helmet and laid down in her spot looking towards the tank. It was perfect. She had full view of _Fury_'s right flank and she could see through the tracks enough that she should be able to cover the left flank as necessary.

"Can you see me?" She shouted out.

"No. Where are you?" Don shouted back.

"Right flank. Twenty yards. About five o'clock." Jo could see Don searching for her. He was looking directly at her.

"I hear you, but I still don't see you."

"Good." She got up, grabbed the shovel, and walked back onto the road and towards _Fury_.

"You moonlight as a sniper?" Don asked once Jo reached the tank and put the shovel down.

"What?" She was confused.

"You got leaves in your helmet and can make one helluva hiding spot." He smiled, fingering some of the leaves in her helmet.

"Oh." She smiled to herself. "How do you think I've stayed alive this long?"

"Luck." He gave her a smile again.

"Ain't that the truth?" She said with a laugh. "Need any help up here?" She asked looking around at the crew.

He looked at the tank. "No, I think we got it all handled." Don looked back to her. "You sure you'll be alright out there?"

"Yeah," she said looking him in the eyes. "I'm not the target and I need to kill some Nazis for what they did. Besides, it's not anything I'm not used to. I was in a worse position in the beet field this morning. I've got ammo to keep the Panzerfaust off you."

"What'll you do once you run out?"

Jo hadn't thought that far ahead. "I'll come join the tank. I'll knock on the hatch. It'll be a risk, but if they find me in the brush unarmed I'm as good as dead anyway."

Don nodded his approval. "Okay. Don't start shooting until we do, though. We don't need to ruin the element of surprise."

"Roger. Anything else?"

He grabbed the front of her jacket with both hands, pulled her close, and kissed her. It was long, slow, and passionate. It took her breath away. Don almost always took her breath away. Jo didn't know how or why, but she loved it and she loved him for it.

Soft whoops, cheers, and clapping were coming from _Fury_'s crew. Jo pulled back and felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment as she looked at them. That was the first time she and Don had kissed in front of anyone. Don and Jo had made it a point not to be affectionate in front of other soldiers for everybody's sake.

Don put a hand on her shoulder and with a finger of his other hand against her chin, turned her head back towards his. "Ignore them." They kissed again. Don pulled back this time, moving his hands to the sides of her face. He rested his forehead against hers for a moment. Lifting his head again he looked Jo in the eyes. "Stay alive."

Jo gave him a short kiss. "You too." She gave him a smile and turned, walking away. She stopped midstride and turned back around. Don was still standing there, watching her walk away. "Make sure that if Grady gets out of the tank he doesn't have a Kraut helmet on. I don't need to accidently shoot him." He nodded to her. Jo turned back to her hiding spot and continued on her way.


	6. Holding the Crossroads

She got comfortable in her ditch.

Jo had cut some branches and pulled them on top of herself for better coverage. _Fury _looked like she had already been attacked and her crew destroyed with the flaming debris Don had set up in front. Now they just had to wait for the Nazis to come.

War was like that, a lot of hurry up and wait. Hurry, make it to this place as fast as you can. Now wait for the enemy and try not to get yourself killed. Thinking about it now, life was a bunch of hurry up and wait. On the farm it was hurry up and plant the seeds. Then you had to wait for the harvest to come. With the army, it was hurry up and finish your schooling, then wait to be trained and deployed. In the aid stations it was hurry up and patch the men up, then wait to see if they pulled through, died, or made it to a real hospital.

Jo was getting sick of hurry up and wait. The anticipation was making her stomach churn with nervousness. It was almost dark. She just wanted the SS battalion to get here already so she could kill as many of the fuckers as possible.

The sound of singing got louder and Jo could see in the distance that they had turned the corner. They were finally heading this way. She felt herself smile as she looked down her gun at them. The bastards were going to die and they weren't going to know what hit them. All of her nervous energy turned into excitement. Her heart beat faster and her fingers twitched in anticipation. Jo wiggled further down into the dirt as the soldiers got closer. It took all her effort not to laugh out loud. She was positively giddy. It should have worried Jo that she was so happy about the fact that she was going to kill Nazis, it didn't though. Might as well enjoy what time she had left to live. Three hundred Nazis versus six Americans and a tank weren't very good odds. Though the tank did help even the playing field a little.

By now the battalion was within one hundred yards of the tank. Their singing was louder than ever. Jo couldn't understand what they were singing. She couldn't understand half of the singing she heard in English, let alone German. Suddenly the singing stopped. An officer and a small squad split off from the rest of the battalion and advanced ahead.

_Fuck._ Jo took a deep breath and focused herself. The giddiness died down inside her and a seriousness took over as hatred swirled about in her bloodstream. She watched as the soldiers circled around _Fury_ and got closer to her position. With slow movements, she flicked the safety off and put her finger on the trigger.

_Wait. Just wait._ None of the approaching soldiers had Panzerfaust, only rifles. The climbed onto _Fury_ and Jo's heart started to race with adrenaline. There were Nazis all over her beloved tank and it seemed like an insult to let them be there, but Don's orders held strong. No firing until they do.

She watched as Norman's hatch was open. Jo could see the alarm in the sudden stiffness of the Nazi's body and then all hell broke loose. Norman perforated the Nazi with bullets and grenades blew the rest of them off the tank. Jo gave a soft low chuckle as she watched the rest of the troops scatter like ants from a boot. Maybe their chances for survival were higher than she first anticipated.

None of them had come near her position yet, and there weren't any Panzerfaust she could see. Jo wanted so bad to just run out into the road and gun them all down, but that would get her killed. Her trigger finger was getting itchy.

Bible pounded one out at a truck coming towards the tank, diverting it. Another shot destroyed the truck completely as more Nazis ran for cover. It was a beautiful sight. Jo's heart sung with joy and she had to tell herself not to cheer. For all intents and purposes, she wasn't there until Panzerfaust were.

There were red tracers flying to the left as the Nazis ran into the field for cover, and a WP shot from _Fury_'s cannon lit up the former aid station. Another, and the rats scurried. Jo saw about a dozen men heading in her direction. _Finally_. She turned her gun on them and killed them all, finishing the ammo in her magazine.

She pulled open her ammo pouch and grabbed another magazine. Jo shoved it into her gun and pulled back the loading bolt. She had ninety rounds of ammo left and she had to spend them wisely. Jo focused back on the task at hand.

Night had fallen, but tracers, white phosphorus, and explosions lit up the sky enough that she could clearly see what was going on. Explosion after explosion went off as Bible shot the tank's cannon, mowing down the assholes in the field. All at once, the guns on _Fury_ stopped firing.

What the hell happened? Hatches opened up on the tank and smoke grenades were thrown out. They must have run out of ammo.

"Goddamn it, Don!" Jo growled under her breath. Smoke grenades may have made it harder for Jerry to see them, but it also made it harder for her to see them. There was a bullet ricochet off the side of the tank. Jo scanned where it could have come from and saw a soldier laying on the ground nearby. She trained her gun on him. The sound of gunshots came from _Fury_ and Jo took out the soldier.

There were other Krauts rushing towards the tank and she gave cover fire. Jo went through two more magazines before _Fury_'s crew was safely ensconced back in the tank. She let out a sigh of relief. Thankfully no one could see her position through the brush, the dark, and a fence, or so she thought. The gunfire had stopped completely and Jo heard a branch crack close to her right. She turned her head and there was a Luger pointed at her.

"Hands up." The officer ordered in German. Slowly, not panicking, Jo pulled her hands away from her gun and held them up in the air. "On your knees." She sat upright, eyeing the gun over her shoulder. Quickly, she reached out and grabbed the gun and his wrist, pulling him forward and into the ground. She bent his wrist around, pointing the gun at his chest, and shot him once. That was all it took.

"Asshole." She stuffed the Luger into her belt and was back on her gun. In the brief moment that the Nazi officer had distracted her, Panzerfaust laden soldiers started surrounding the tank. Jo took aim and shot as many of them as she could see until she ran out of ammo. She scrambled to her feet, leaving the Thompson there, and started running towards _Fury_. Blood pumping, she pulled the Luger out of her belt and aimed it at a rocket toting soldier. Running made her miss and he shot off his rocket. Thankfully, it ricocheted off the side of the tank.

Reaching the back of _Fury_, she crouched down and shot him. The right flank was clear now. She checked the left. She saw two soldiers and shot them both dead. The Luger was empty. She dropped it on the ground and pulled herself up the back of the tank. Jo saw her pack still sitting on the back of the tank. She grabbed it and crouched down behind the turret. Jo flattened her upper body on top of the turret and hammered on Don's hatch.

His periscope turned until it faced her. She gave a little wave of her fingers and a smile. The hatch popped open and Don's face appeared, looking up at her.

"Get inside!"

She reached back and grabbed her pack, thrusting it towards the opening. "Take this first." He pulled the bag in and let it fall to the floor.

"Now get insi-" The sound of bullets bouncing off the tank cut him off. Jo pushed Don's head down inside the tank and slid back off the turret.

"Stay down!" Jo shouted to the tank's occupants. She stayed crouched in the cover of the turret and pulled out her pistol. She wondered if Don was okay. She had to push him down, he didn't fall, so he should be fine, but it's hard to tell in the heat of battle sometimes.

Bullets stopped coming, but the sound of running footsteps could be heard. Jo stood up and found her target. A solder was running towards the back of the tank on the right side. She emptied her gun at him, hitting nothing but air. She would yell at herself later for missing him, but right now she didn't have time.

He had reached the back of the tank and was trying to climb up. She threw her pistol at him, it hit him in the face. It only slowed him down for a second. He continued climbing. Jo made to kick him in the face, but he grabbed her leg mid swing and pulled her down. She held onto the tank for dear life as he tried dragging her off the side. It felt like her arms were going to rip off, or at the very least, dislocate. When yanking her didn't work, he started climbing up her. Jo's heart was thrumming with adrenaline. In all her experiences, nobody had ever tried to use her as a ladder before.

Once his head reached her waist, she elbowed him hard in the face. Bad move. Jo missed his eye, trying not to hit the helmet, and hit him in the cheek instead. She clutched her hurt elbow as he started to stand up on the tank. When his groin was eye level, Jo decided to headbutt him. That knocked him back down on the tank and she pulled herself up.

She started climbing up onto the turret and he grabbed her boot. Jo fell forward and the force of her hitting the top of the tank knocked her helmet off into the tank. Her eyes locked with Don's before she was dragged back away from the hatch. The Nazi pulled her completely off the turret and Jo hit her face hard against the back when her shoulders slipped off.

She was dazed as he yanked her to her feet and turned her to face him. He was a big motherfucker. She didn't even know the Germans grew them that big.

"Do you need help?" Jo heard Don call from the tank.

"No! Stay in–" The rest of her sentence was cut off by a right hook to the face. It felt like she was smacked in the face by a brick. Her legs fell out from under her, but the Nazi's hold on her jacket kept her dangling in the air. She could taste blood and her left eye wouldn't stop watering, but that was the least of her worries right now.

He put his other hand on her jacket and held her up close to his face, inspecting her. She used the distraction to fumble for her bayonet. Jo got it out of its sheath and gripped it in her hand. She swung her arm around and managed to slice him deeply across the face. He dropped her with a yelp of pain and grabbed at his face. She landed mostly on the turret and scrambled backwards towards the hatch.

Jo didn't realize how close she was to the hatch already and she dropped her knife as her hand went through the hole. She started falling backwards in, but was stopped by a hand on her boot. The Nazi started dragging her back towards him, but Don grabbed her under the shoulders this time. She felt like she was being ripped in half as the two men played tug-o-war with her.

Trying to kick his hands off her boot, Jo realized the Nazi had his fingers stuck in her laces. Nothing short of a knife was going to get them out of there until he wanted them out. He gave a big yank with both arms that pulled her mostly out of the hatch. Only Jo's head and shoulders were left inside the tank thanks to Don hanging on.

The man clambered onto the turret without letting go of Jo. There wasn't room for anyone to try to shoot him through their hatch with Don and Jo in the way and the .50 was blocking the other hatch. He pinned Jo's ankles down with his legs. She let out a small gasp of pain. He weighed a ton. Jo was surprised her ankles didn't break underneath him. She tried struggling to no avail. Between him and Don, she was stuck.

Jerry crept forward slowly, looking especially menacing with a bloody hole in his face, exposing some teeth. Fear and panic finally overtook Jo. She wasn't sure if he was moving that slow or if time slowed down. Jo was petrified as he came closer. She had no idea what he was going to do to her, but she was certain she was going to die. He looked to Don, then to Jo, and reached an arm out, closing the hatch on her.

Jo let out a low grunt as all the air was forced out of her lungs and a searing pain spread across her left side. The bastard had crushed her with the hatch lid. She felt the pressure on her ankles go away and the pain in her ribs eased a little as the hatch was lifted. Jo took as deep a breath as she could before the hatch came down on her again, this time with more force. She could hear the sickening crack of her ribs breaking as well as feel it.

She tried gasping for air, but nothing but pain happened when she did. The lid lifted and closed on her two more times before Don let go of her and struggled to open it. He managed to shoulder it open and pulled out his revolver. He let out two rounds and that was it. It was over. She felt the bulk of the man outside fall onto her legs and then slip off the side of the turret. Jo still couldn't breathe, though. She gasped and gasped, but no air would go into her lungs. She imagined that it must be like how a fish out of water feels. Gills flapping, but no air coming in.

Don raised out of the tank a little to better grab her and pulled her in. Just after his head was back in the tank, there was a gunshot outside and Jo's right shin felt like it was on fire. She would have screamed out in pain if she could. Instead, both her eyes let loose tears of pain. Jo wasn't sure if there was a part of her body that wasn't in pain anymore. He pulled her the rest of the way into the tank and gently set her on the floor. He pulled the hatch shut above him and looked down at Jo. She knew that look. It was the look you give to a dying man before you tell him he will be fine and he dies of his injuries. She had given that look to so many men she knew it by heart.

She wasn't going to stand for it. He wasn't going to give her that look. She may be dying and gasping for air, but she wasn't going to die here, not if she had anything to say about it. Jo looked around with her good eye for her pack, her left eye having swollen shut. She spotted it and reached out for it. It was just out of reach. She tried her hardest to reach for it, but couldn't. That was it. She made it this far and she was going to die in this tank all because she couldn't move five fucking inches closer to reach it. She closed her eye in defeat and listened to the sound of her gasping echo in the tank.

Suddenly she felt something heavy being gently placed in her hand. Jo opened her eyes. Bible had set her bag in her hand. She twitched a smile at him and pulled it in to herself, setting it on her lap. She fumbled with the clasps, she couldn't get them open. Don reached down and opened them for her. Jo reached into one of the pockets and pulled out a handful of sulfonamide packets and a roll of gauze and threw them at Bible. She pointed to her leg and he got to work. She pulled out the package with the glass tube and opened it. Half of it was shattered and perfect for her needs. She grabbed the intact half of the tube, yanked down the collars of her jacket and shirts and stabbed the sharp end of the tube into her chest. Some blood came out at first, but a second later she was able to breathe again. Hallelujah, she wasn't going to asphyxiate on her blood. At least not yet. She would need medical attention eventually, but for now she would survive.

Jo took a few deep, painful breaths before reaching into her pack again and pulling out a packet of premeasured dosages of morphine. She took one out and stabbed it into her arm. Her eye fluttered shut a few moments later with the sweet feeling of pain relief. She was still in pain, no doubt, but it was nowhere near as intense anymore. Jo opened her eye again and looked up at Don.

She smiled at him. "I made it."

"You made it this far. We aren't out of the woods yet." He smiled down at her.

"Done." Bible said, releasing Jo's leg. She forgot he was even patching it up. Jo lifted it in the air as best she could to look at his handiwork. He did a good job.

Suddenly, the tank rocked with an explosion and there was a hole in the tank and Grady, sparks flying everywhere. Grady's body fell to the floor of the tank and Boyd was over to him immediately. They all knew he was dead as Bible cried over his body. War was funny like that. It gives you hope one second, then takes it away and reminds you where you are the next.

"Get up! We're still in this fight!" Don shouted at him. "We're still in this fight!" Bible put a jacket over Grady's face and Jo stuck another measure of morphine into her arm. The relief was blissful, dulling the pain of her injuries even further.

"Watch our right. Watch our right." Don ordered. Norman fired his gun at the enemy and Bible was at his gun again. The sound of it brought back a weird sense of nostalgia in Jo. It had been a long time since she was inside a tank in battle. She missed it. It was one of those things you never realized you missed until you were back there again.

The pings of bullets and shrapnel hitting the sides of the tank instilled a sense of calm in Jo. She closed her eye and took in all the sounds and the smell of gunpowder. Maybe dying in the tank wouldn't be such a bad thing after all? As long as it was quick. Suffocation and fire were not routes she wanted to take to death. A bullet in the head would be nice. She would be dead before she even knew it. Jo pulled herself from her morbid thoughts, it must have been the morphine's fault. It always made her contemplate death a little more than usual. Probably because she was usually close to dying when she needed it.

The guns in _Fury_ stopped firing and Jo opened her eye. Norman and Bible were both out of ammo.

"That's all there is." Don stated. "Don't get your panties in a bunch. We still got hand weapons and the .50." He glanced down at Jo. She could see he put on his poker face of 'everything is going to be alright.' "Who's with me?" He looked in his periscope and started shouting out orders to the remaining crew.

"What do you want me to do?" Jo asked Don.

"You?" He looked down at her again. "I want you to lay there and concentrate on staying alive. Think you can handle that?"

"Yes, sir." She gave him a sad smile. When he returned it, Jo knew that all hell was going to break loose even more than it already had. He was on the war path, so to speak, and nothing was going to stop him now. Not even her.

Jo turned her head and spotted her bayonet and helmet lying on the floor nearby. She grabbed them both, she was probably going to need them soon.

"Here we go boys." Don opened his hatch and looked out. When he got out, Bible stepped over her to take his place and everybody else was standing out of their hatches. There was an eerie quiet in and around the tank. It put Jo on edge even through her drug addled haze. Bullets started hitting the hull of the tank, the suddenness of it made Jo flinch.

Everyone but Don was back inside the tank. Bible even landed on her good leg he came back in so fast.

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

They all went back out just as quickly as they came in and the sound of the .50 was like music in her ears. Bible climbed out of the tank suddenly and Jo took the opportunity to get herself out of the way. She pulled herself up the side of the turret basket and deposited herself in the gunner's chair. Putting her eye to the scope, she watched as the Nazis were gunned down.

Jo was distracted when she heard Norman shout, "Grenade!" She looked towards the front of the tank and saw Gordo grab a grenade that had fallen onto the center console and fold himself over it. Next thing she knew, Gordo was dead and Norman was climbing out of the tank.

There she was, sitting by herself inside a tank, with nothing but a bayonet to protect herself. Jo felt completely helpless. A bayonet wasn't going to do her much good in or out of a tank at this point.

"What the fuck are you doing? Button up!" She heard Don shout from above.

Bible dove head first into the tank, landing hard, and Norman climbed back into his seat. At least she wasn't alone anymore. She put her eye back to the scope and smoke blocked her view of anything outside. Jo could hear Don taunting the Germans outside and would have chuckled if it weren't for the fact that he was so exposed on the .50.

"Bible, Grenades!" Boyd grabbed the bag of grenades and made his way to the hatch.

"Here, take-" He stopped talking suddenly and fell back into the tank.

"Bible?" Jo asked, turning her head to look at him. He looked like he was asleep except for the bloody hole in his face. "Shit."

Jo realized that the chances of them getting out of there alive were getting slimmer and slimmer with each passing moment. At least they had all died quick deaths so far and not suffered. It was her job to patch people up, but it was awful watching someone suffering while they died. The people she knew she couldn't save.

Don let out a shout of pain and the .50 stopped firing. Jo was petrified with the idea that Don might be dead. Bullets hitting the tank again brought her out of her reverie and she looked to Norman. He was looking at her with the same shocked look on his face she was sure her face would have if it were in working order. Chances were they were the only two left alive, in which case they would both be dead soon anyway. Jo couldn't fend off anyone if she tried and Norman's grease gun only had so many bullets left till it ran empty.

She let out a shuddered breath and leaned her forehead against the scope, resigning herself to the idea of dying. The sound of boots entering the tank filled her with dread. She didn't bother looking over to see who her killer was.

"Kill us quickly." She said to the man in German.

"Are you really so quick to give up?" Don asked her. Jo turned her head to face him so fast, she nearly gave herself whiplash.

"You're alive!" She breathed.

"Not for long." He fell down to the bottom of the tank and Jo spotted the bleeding bullet holes in his jacket.

Jo willed herself into action, ignoring all the pain in her body. She grabbed her bag and hobbled over to him, kneeling between his legs. "I didn't come this far and stop myself from suffocating only to let you die." She pulled out gauze pads, sulfa drugs, long wrap bandages, morphine, and her bayonet. "And we promised each other, if I'm alive you're alive, if you're alive I'm alive." She quickly unzipped his coat and ripped open his shirt. She used her bayonet to cut at his undershirt to get at his wounds.

"Lean forward." He did as he was told to the best of his ability. Jo ran her hands across his back and sides and couldn't find an exit wound to any of the bullets. That meant she only had to work on stopping the bleeding from his chest. "Lean back again." She wasn't sure about the internal damage of his wounds, but based on the bleeding, nothing vital was hit.

"Sniper?" Jo asked as she poured a sulfa pack into a bullet hole and pressed a gauze pad to the worst wound.

"Yeah."

"Well he didn't want you dead. If he did he would have shot you in the head. He missed your heart and major arteries. Sorry to tell you this, but you are going to be fine."

"Until the Nazis storm the tank."

"Yeah, until they storm the tank." She grabbed his gun out of his shoulder holster. "Take this. Keep us alive a little bit longer." He took the gun out of her hand and she wrapped up the first hole. Don gave a grunt of pain. "Sorry." She grabbed the morphine and gave him a dose.

Don started talking to Norman and Jo kept up her work. They could all hear someone climbing up the side of the tank. The hatch above Don opened up and he shot the Nazi looking in.

"Norman, open the emergency hatch now." Jo ordered.

"His name's Machine, now." She put the finishing touches on Don's bandages.

"What?"

"His name's Machine, now."

"Shut up." Jo heard the hatch open. "Up. I can't carry you with my injuries, but I can at least help you." She put his hands on her shoulders, moved his legs under him, and grabbed at the waistband of his pants. "I'm gonna pull you up on the count of three. One, two, three." She pulled Don up and he was fine once he got on his feet.

"Norman, go through the hatch and help Don on his way out. Then I'll be right out after you two." Norman did as ordered.

"You first." Don protested.

"No. The deadest person is the last to go right now and I don't trust you to follow us out if I leave you here." She guided Don to the hatch and Norman took over from there. Jo waited patiently for Don to be clear of the hatch before she started gingerly lowering herself through the hatch.

She had one leg firmly planted on the ground when she heard metallic thuds to her right. Two stick grenades were dropped into the tank. She lowered herself as quick as she possibly could. Her upper body was out of the tank and she pulled her arms through, all that was left inside was her head. She started to lower it out when the grenades went off. The left side of her head slammed into the side of the emergency hatch and everything went black. Her body fell limply to the ground.


	7. Hospital Ship

Jo was awake before she realized it.

Her left hand felt warm and heavy, her entire body hurt, and wherever she was stunk of disinfectant. Jo opened her eyes and closed them again immediately. The light hurt her eyes eliciting a moan of pain from her and she brought her right hand up to her eyes. She could feel a bandage going around her head and some bandaging from just above her right temple to just below her right cheek. Jo didn't remember getting hurt in either place. Now that she thought about it, there was a throbbing in both places.

She opened her eyes again, this time with her hand firmly blocking light out. Jo slowly spread her fingers out as she got used to the light, eventually removing her hand entirely. Looking to her left, Don was sitting in a wheelchair holding her hand.

"You're awake," he said to her with a smile. She couldn't hear him with her right ear.

"You're alive." She smiled back at him.

"Thanks to you. Doctor said I would be dead if you hadn't patched me up."

"That's what I'm trained to do. Why are you in a wheelchair? Surely, you can walk?"

"Yeah. I can walk. I just get a little lightheaded from the effort, so they are forcing me to use a wheelchair until I'm healed a little more."

"Makes sense. Don't need you busting the stitching on a blood vessel. Where are we anyway?"

"Somewhere in the Atlantic, on an ocean liner retrofitted to be a temporary hospital ship."

"A hospital ship," she mumbled to herself, mulling it over. To her it had been seconds ago that she was in _Fury_ being shot at by Nazis. To be on a hospital ship meant they were going back to America, but France would have been where they were sent to be hospitalized. "What about France?"

"We were in France for a few days and then they started to send everyone home."

"What? Why? Aren't we needed in Germany?"

"You know better than I, anyone that makes it to a real hospital is a lost cause for the battlefield. Besides, the Germans officially surrendered this morning."

"There is no fucking way Hitler surrendered."

"He didn't. He shot himself just over a week ago."

"Figures he shot himself. The fucking coward. Wait, over a week ago?! How long have I been out?"

"Twelve days."

"Twelve days? No wonder you sounded relieved when I woke up." Jo pulled her hand out of Don's grip and pushed herself up to reposition herself. Instantly she tensed as pain went shooting through her side from her broken ribs. She gently lowered herself back down. "Twelve days apparently isn't long enough for my ribs to feel a little better."

"They haven't been giving you any morphine."

"Obviously. What happened after I got you out of the tank?"

"You started to get out and were almost fully out when there was an explosion from the tank. You just collapsed towards the front of the tank. I thought you were dead for sure. A Nazi looked under the tank and pulled you out while Machine and I played dead. Next thing I knew he was shouting to the others that you were alive. They brought a litter over, put you on it, and took you with them."

"They didn't bother checking you two?"

"No. I think they were so distracted by you they forgot about us. I was positive you would be dead in the hands of the Germans, but here you are."

"What the fuck? Wait a minute. If the Germans took me, then how did I get back with the Americans?"

"Captain Waggoner took his men through the crossroads and intercepted the Germans on the way. They found you alive and put you in an ambulance. They had a helluva time getting me out from under the tank. I was stiff and the morphine had worn off." He smiled to himself. "They had to sort of shove a litter half under me and pull me out that way. It hurt like hell and they got dirt up my shirt and jacket because you didn't tuck it back in."

"Sorry. Next time we are both dying slowly trapped in a tank by Nazis and have to make a quick escape I'll be sure to tuck your shirt back in so you don't get dirt up it."

Don chuckled at her and Jo smiled at him.

"Anyway, they were pulling me out and I just started to laugh. I don't know why. Maybe it was relief that I was alive or maybe I was delirious or something. But I somehow found the whole thing funny."

"Sounds hilarious." Jo replied dryly. "Actually, sounds like what happened with me in the field. Question."

"Yeah?"

"Is this ear bandaged or something?" She pointed to her right ear. "Because I can't hear a damn thing out of it."

"Doctors said that the explosion burst your eardrum or something like that."

"Did they happen to mention if the hearing loss is permanent or not? I don't think I could handle going through life half deaf suddenly."

"I don't know."

"Figures." Jo looked up at the ceiling and a silence fell between them. A sudden itch caused Jo's left leg to jerk to the right. She clutched her ribs in pain as she reached down with the other hand to itch. It wasn't until she was settled back in and her pain dulled that Jo realized her left leg should have collided with her right when she twitched.

Jo glanced down at the blanket covering her legs. She started at her thighs and scanned down. Everything looked fine when she reached her knees. Going a few inches farther was when things started to look strange. Several inches below her right knee the blanket had a slight bulge and everywhere after that was empty on the right side. She looked to her left toes, back to the empty area where her right toes should have been, and back to her left toes again.

Jo fixated on the spot where her right foot and toes should have been and just stared. Surely somebody was playing a joke on her. Why would she need to have her leg amputated? She was only shot. Maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her.

"Is it just me or does it look like I only have half of a right leg?"

Don glanced over. "It's not just you."

Jo threw back the bedsheets and took a gander. There it was in all its stubby glory. There was no hole in the mattress with her leg sticking through, playing a joke on her. There were just bandages that replaced where her leg should be beyond her knee. She stared at the empty space on the bed, still not quite believing it. She tried to wiggle her missing toes just to see what the sensation would feel like. Nothing. It just stopped completely. 'Huh." It was strange, but not unfamiliar. She couldn't feel the area around her waist either, but it didn't hinder her any and she had gotten used to it. She would get used to this too.

"You aren't freaking out. Why aren't you freaking out?"

Jo turned her attention to Don with an incredulous look on her face. "When have you ever known me to freak out?"

"After that battle."

"No, I wouldn't consider that a freak out. That was more in line with an emotional breakdown. And beating on Grady and Miles was lashing out."

"My mistake. In that case, I can't recall."

Jo smirked at Don and looked back at her leg. "I can see that it's missing, and I feel that it's missing, but something in me is telling me it can't be missing. That it's there, but not accessible. So don't discount me freaking out later. It just hasn't clicked, yet."

"I've seen men twice the size of you freak out about losing a limb."

"Yes and how many of them weren't in severe pain and just had their limbs blown off by a grenade? I woke up to a missing limb instead. I've seen men with all their limbs freaking out thinking something is gone, and I've seen men missing parts perfectly calm as they are bleeding out. Much like breaking, everybody has a different reaction when it happens. Right now, mine is to stare at the empty spot and imagine it's all a sick joke. What's your point?"

Jo stared at Don, irritated. She knew he was trying to get a rise out of her. Don was about to respond when a nurse walked into the room.

"Sgt. Collier, it's time for you to go back to your own room now." She walked around the front of the bed to wheel Don out of the room.

"Can I have some morphine?" Jo asked.

The nurse startled. "Oh! You're awake. I'll go get the doctor." She walked right back out of the room, leaving Don there.

"I guess that's a no. Does she come to collect you every night?"

"Yes. Why?"

"She's cute with her red hair and freckles."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means she's cute and you should go after her."

"Why would I want to do that?" He asked, incensed.

Jo was confused. "I thought our relationship, if you want to call it that, was exclusively war related. Both of us went into this for some comfort and sex in a hell hole, or at least so I thought, and neither of us expected to make it out of the war alive. Now, as far as we are concerned, the war is over and we are both still alive. The slate is clean and you can have any woman you want. So if you want to go after her, go after her."

Don was silent a moment. "I'm confused. Are you breaking up with me?"

"I wouldn't call it breaking up. We never actually dated."

"Whatever," he brushed the words out of the air with his hand. "Are you ending whatever it is we have?" He stared intently at her.

"Jesus Christ!" She scrubbed her hand down her face and the nurse came back in, followed by the doctor.

The nurse grabbed the back of Don's chair and started to pull him away. "We'll finish this tomorrow." He looked surly as he was wheeled out.

The doctor came over to her bedside and grabbed her charts off the bedside table, flipping through them. If she had known they were just sitting there, she would have had Don grab them for her.

He held them in his lap as he sat down in a chair next to her bed. "Jo, I'm Dr. Lippmann."

Jo snorted. "Great. I'm on the way back to the U.S. and German doctors are still doing shit to me," She mumbled to herself, but loud enough that he could clearly hear her.

"I'm sorry?" He asked confused, while fiddling with his horn-rimmed glasses. "I was born and raised in America. I'm second generation as a matter of fact."

"Good for you! And I'm first, but that doesn't really fucking matter does it?" Lippmann looked taken aback. "Are you my primary?"

"Primary what?"

"'Primary what,' holy shit! Primary doctor."

"Oh. Uh, yes, yes, I am."

Oh god, he is flustered. He must be a new doctor. That or he isn't used to treating patients who swear at him, especially women.

"Then as my primary doctor can you give me some morphine? Because it hurts to breathe."

"Yes, just give me a second to call the nurse in." He stood up, scrapping his chair against the floor.

Jo rolled her eyes. "Oh, for fuck sake. Just give me the damn bottle and syringe. I'll do it myself."

"I'm not permitted to-"

"I'm a nurse. I know how to dose it. I'll give myself a little now and then you can bring in the other nurse to put it on a drip." She gave him an irritated smile.

He nodded at her. "Okay." Lippmann went to the cabinet in the corner and pulled out a bottle and syringe, bringing them back over to Jo. "Here you go."

Jo pulled a small amount of morphine out of the bottle into the syringe and knocked the air bubbles out of it. She pushed the needle into her vein and slowly sank the plunger. There was less morphine running through her than one of the premeasured doses she used in the field. It wasn't much, but it would do.

She settled a little as the pain eased off. "Now we can talk."

"Right." He sat back down in his chair and pulled it close again. The doctor was about to speak, when Jo interrupted him.

"Who was the douche nozzle that decided to chop my leg off? Was it you?" The doctor visibly swallowed and paled. "It was you, wasn't it?" He gave a meek nod and Jo grabbed him by the tie, pulling his face closer to hers. "Why the fuck did you cut off my leg?" She asked in a deadly calm voice.

"I personally didn't cut it off. The orthopedic surgeon did."

"Fine. Why did you two decide to cut off my leg?" She twisted his tie in her fist some.

"There was an infection." He flinched a little.

"Sulfa drugs were poured into it." Jo shook him by the tie.

"The bone. The bone was infected. The bullet shattered a part of it. There was no way to clean it out. He had to remove your leg to stop the infection from spreading and killing you." She narrowed her eyes at the man and released him, satisfied with the answer.

"What the hell else is wrong with me?"

He glanced down at her charts again. "You have a perforated eardrum which is expected to heal with minimal hearing loss. You suffered burns to the upper right quadrant of your face, scarring is expected. You have three broken ribs on your left side and your left lung suffered bruising and a small puncture which has been fixed. Lastly is your leg, which you've already noticed."

"I think you are glossing over some head injury there, Doc."

"Oh, right. Yes. You suffered a blow to the left side of your head. It caused a coma, which you have woken from, and cracked your skull. We don't expect any long term side effects." He put the clipboard down and looked at Jo. "If you weren't wearing that helmet, you'd probably be dead."

"Well aren't I lucky." She stated sarcastically. "Have anything else to add?"

"No."

"Then just go and send in the nurse."

He sighed. "Fine." He stood up and put the chair back where it belonged. He walked to the door and opened it. He paused. "For whatever it's worth, I am sorry about your leg." Jo ignored him and he left without another word.

Finally alone in the room, Jo took in her surroundings. The walls and floor were whitewashed steel and there were a handful of beds in the room, all empty. Probably a women only room. There was a window to her left. Waves splashed up on it. She stared out the window until she heard the door open. The same nurse from before came in.

"How are you feeling?" She asked walking over to Jo's bedside.

"As well as can be expected."

The nurse pulled out the necessary supplies. "That Sergeant, he really cares for you. He's been here every day since he was cleared to move about. You must have taken good care of him."

"What?"

She stopped in her work and looked at Jo. "You're a nurse. I saw your tags. You must have taken good care of his wounds for him to be that smitten with you." She continued on and stuck the morphine drip into Jo's arm. "I wish I were lucky enough to have a dashing soldier sweep me off my feet." The nurse looked lost in thought before she suddenly became panic stricken. "Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to offend you. The whole feet thing when you are missing a leg." Her face was bright red with embarrassment complimenting her hair and freckles.

"It's fine. No need to apologize." Jo cut off the woman's babbling.

"Thank you!" She started to compose herself again. "Is there anything else you need?"

"Do you have a mirror?" Jo asked, not expecting one. The nurse thought for a second and walked over to the cabinet on the corner. She rifled through the shelves and drawers and came up with a hand mirror.

"Here you go," she said, handing the mirror to Jo.

Jo took the mirror and held it up. She was never the prize cow in her opinion, but she looked like shit even by her standards. Her jaw and eye were covered in faded yellow and green bruises and most everywhere else was covered in bandages. She started to remove the bandage near her right eye. The mirror tilted up slightly as she pulled at the tape and she saw her hair. Jo stopped immediately and looked at her hair.

It was far too long and starting to show waves. She was mortified. Jo fingered her hair just to see if it was really that long. It was. How many weeks overdue was it for a cut? Two? Three? She wasn't exactly sure when the last time she cut it was at this point, but it needed to be rectified. Now.

Jo turned to the nurse. "Is there a bathroom with a mirror and do you have scissors?"

She clearly took the nurse by surprise. "Uh…I'm not sure. Let me check." The nurse walked over to a door Jo didn't even notice was there and opened it, sticking her head in. "This is a bathroom. Oh and there is a mirror right there." She pulled her head out and shut the door going back over to the cabinet. She rummaged through it some more and produced a pair of scissors. "Here we are!" Jo was throwing back the bedsheets when the nurse turned around. "What are you-"

"Come over here and help me out." Jo said and swung her leg over the side of the bed.

"Oh, I don't think that's such a good idea." The nurse said, coming over clearly trying to placate Jo back into bed.

"Listen," the nurse nodded her head. "I'm going to get out of this bed and go into that bathroom and cut my hair with or without your help. The decision is yours." Jo snatched the scissors out of the woman's hand.

The nurse thought for a moment and nodded to herself. "Okay, I'll help you. But if we get caught, I'm blaming you."

A big grin spread across Jo's face. "Excellent!" Jo slid herself towards the edge of the bed and the nurse stood in front of her. She placed the scissors on the bed and put one hand on the bed and the other in the nurse's hands. Jo pushed off the bed and immediately found herself flailing and clinging to the nurse. It was much harder standing up than she expected. Her balance was off. Getting up with one leg was hard enough without the other to put weight on, let alone the uneven weight distribution from the missing limb. The head rush didn't help things either.

Once she was properly settled upright, Jo shook the lingering fuzziness from her head. She found herself leaning a little, probably because of the odd weight, but she would work on that later, right now she needed a haircut.

She reached for the pole holding her IV and morphine and pulled it closer. She turned towards the foot of the bed with the nurse's help. "Grab the scissors." She ordered. The nurse did as she was told and placed them in a pocket for safe keeping until they were in the bathroom. "So how do you want to do this?"

"I'm not sure, it's up to you."

"Leading me seems like a bad idea, and I can just imagine hitting the floor if I use the IV and your hand as support. How about I put an arm around your shoulders, you just walk, and I hop along? Happens in the battlefield all the time." The nurse nodded and ducked under Jo's right arm, placing her hand at Jo's waist.

"Ready?"

Jo nodded. "Go."

The nurse started forward slowly and Jo hopped along beside her, dragging the IV behind her. She was glad that the ribs broken were high in her chest, the jostling from hopping didn't make them hurt much. There was a short pause on the way for Jo to catch her breath, but they reached the bathroom without incident. The nurse maneuvered Jo in front of the sink, set the scissors down on the basin, and sat on the lidded toilet.

Jo squared herself up with the sink and leaned her hips against it to help with her balance. Inspecting herself under the harsh bathroom light, she noticed there was still a slight welt by her eye where she was punched. Brown bruising peaked up from the top of her hospital gown. Jo pulled it forward and looked down.

"Oh my god." There were almost healed stitches next to her left breast, but the breast itself was all misshapen and lumpy.

"What is it?"

"My breast looks fucking weird." She pulled down the top of the collar until most of her left breast was exposed. She pressed at it and it was still tender. They were definitely welts. Just the shape of the lumps lent themselves to be from where she had the hatch repeatedly slammed into her. She rubbed at the welts for a few seconds longer before replacing the gown.

Jo picked up the scissors, grabbed some hair, and started cutting. Using the scissors was far superior to a blade, but as long as it was something that had an edge, she could cut her hair with it. She learned how to pretty quickly in the field. The field barber refused to cut her hair every two weeks and he didn't get it right when she let him anyway. He wouldn't let her use his tools either, so she usually resigned herself to looking in a small mirror and using whatever sharp object was handy, usually her bayonet, occasionally a scalpel when she was in the field hospital. Nancy usually tore her a new one when she did that. The thought of Nancy yelling at her put a smile on Joe's face.

"I know that you want to look your best, but why can't this wait?"

"What?" The nurse brought Jo back to reality. She wasn't used to being interrupted during a haircut except by gunfire. Nancy even waited until Jo was finished to start admonishing her. They both liked it better that way. Nancy had Jo's undivided attention, and Jo could experience Nancy's attempts at mothering her.

"Why are you cutting your hair now? If you waited, we could get someone in here to cut it for you. Besides, it's not like it's that long to begin with."

Jo felt like telling the other woman to wait outside, but she couldn't. She didn't know if she would need the nurse at some point, so she humored her instead. "It can't wait. It's overdue for a cut and too long. And if I don't cut it now, it will become the only thing I can think of, and then I'll start pulling at it, and then other shit happens." She started to ramble. Jo sighed. "It's just easier to cut it and forget about it for now." The nurse nodded and Jo finished her haircut in companionable silence.

She cleaned the hair out of the sink, throwing it in the trash can, and rinsed down all the tiny pieces that weren't worth trying to picking up. Jo glanced over at the nurse. She was distracted, picking her nails. Jo picked up the fresh bar of soap sitting on the sink and started to get a lather from it. The sound of the faucet turning on grabbed the nurse's attention.

"What are you doing?"

"Washing my face."

"No. We've been in here long enough and you can't get your bandages wet." She stood up and shut off the water. "Give me the soap." The nurse demanded, hand outstretched.

"No." Jo moved the soap away from the nurse. The nurse reached for the soap and Jo made to step away, forgetting that she was missing half a leg. Losing her balance, she let go of the soap and grabbed onto the sink, but between the soap lather and the wet porcelain her hands slipped and she came crashing down directly on the end of her stump. Jo screamed in pain and instantly clutched at the bandaged leg.

Tears welled up as she lay there sobbing in pain. It was one of the worst pains she had experienced and was such a foreign sensation. Pain like that didn't just happen in what was formerly the middle of her leg. Jo didn't want to know how bad the pain would be if she didn't have morphine. It was already worse than being shot, but not quite as bad as the hot poker had been. Her fall pulled down the IV and morphine whose bottles were now shattered on the floor.

"Oh god! I'll go get help." The nurse ran out of the bathroom.

Jo wasn't sure how long she laid on the floor, but the pain and her crying were constant the entire time. Hurried footsteps and shouting were muffled until the bathroom door was flung open.

"Quickly! Get her up and put her back in her bed," a man ordered. The tubes were pulled out of Jo's arm; blood had been coming back out through them without fluids to counter the pressure. A man in all white scooped her up and Jo let out a yell of pain as her ribs were squished against him. "Careful!" She was carried past the nurse and the man giving orders. "What the hell was she doing out of bed in the first place?!"

"I'm sorry. She insisted." Jo heard a slap as she was deposited into her bed. Fucking asshole.

"Get out of here! You're worthless!" The nurse ran out of the room and the doctor came over to the bed. "Give her a sedative, then get this mess cleaned up."

Jo felt a needle go into her arm and then everything got fuzzy and heavy. She couldn't keep her eyelids open. The pain in her leg stopped and Jo drifted off.


End file.
